The Defeated
by DawningStar
Summary: The Earth has been occupied by Yeerks, and the fight seems to be over. But the hosts have their own ways of rebelling--and reality is never entirely firm when the Time Matrix is around. A companion to the Sharf Den series. (Uploaded Chapter Thirteen)
1. The Defeated

The Defeated Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. 

The Defeated   
translated by [DawningStar][1]

My name is Cassandra. 

I don't have a last name. Or at least, I never knew my last name. People say I'm a descendant of Cassie. She was a member of the Animorphs, the resistance group which almost succeeded in delaying the Yeerks until the Andalite fleet arrived. Perhaps they would even have succeeded if the Andalites had not been defeated even before Earth fell. 

I don't know whether or not I really am. I don't suppose it matters much. But I was named after her, which is enough for me. It's strange--it's been so long since any of us has been free, and yet we still remember those days. Even I can remember it as if it were real, being able to do everything without interference from a Yeerk, no cage trapping me. 

I am Controlled by Tariss 236, and have been for approximately one thousand, two hundred cycles now. It's not that bad, really, aside from not being able to move. She doesn't bother to taunt or torture me. Not many Yeerks do anymore. We humans have stopped even trying to fight the control. 

Tariss bent over and leaned her ear toward the surface of the Yeerk Pool. She slithered out of her ear--well, mine, for now. 

I staggered and almost fell as I was suddenly in control of my own body again. The Hork-Bajir caught hold of me before I could injure myself. They aren't really guards, not anymore. They're just there to assist the host until he or she remembers how to walk again. 

One opened the cage door. The other gave me a gentle push over the threshold, and the door closed again. 

I stumbled to one side of the cage and sat down gratefully. I don't know why the Yeerks even bother to cage us anymore. Most of us don't want to be voluntary hosts, not with the stigma attached to it, but there aren't many who would actually try to get away. 

The others in the cage looked up and smiled broadly at seeing me, for this was the only time in three days we were able to talk, to have fun. 

I smiled back. I am a child by the old human standards, only eleven Earth years, but I was considered one of the best Storytellers on Earth. It was what we did during this time--at least, those cagegroups lucky enough to have a Storyteller. There aren't really all that many. Most are killed by the Yeerks when they reach adulthood and might be dangerous. Probably I will be too. 

I don't care. I have to tell my stories. For the others in my own cagegroup, and the ones close enough to hear me; for the future Storytellers who would perhaps hear my stories and tell them to others; for myself. Even, as silly as it seems, for the characters I tell of. 

"Cassandra, do you have a story? A new story?" asked Tovi, the only host there younger than me, only seven or eight years old. He showed promise; maybe someday he would decide to become a Storyteller as well. 

I nodded to him. "Yes, I do. A new story." 

There were fifteen of us altogether. Nine were adult hosts, middle-aged or fairly young. Three were not too much older than me, in their teens. One was an elderly lady; not many hosts lived so long. 

The other members of my cagegroup moved closer, to hear better over the splashes of the Pool, and the screams and sobs of those few newly infested hosts--mostly aliens. The human race had long ago fallen, though every once in a long while you'd find a rare holdout in some isolated wilderness. Hosts in nearby cages huddled against the bars to hear. 

I shut my eyes, the better to concentrate on the story I'd imagined for the past three days and block out the scenes surrounding me. 

* * *

The village was dark that night. Children of many species played in the pools of light created by small lamps or candles, chasing one another through the night and the trembling shadows. No adults were visible, except a lone Andalite hurrying by as though anxious to get out of the darkened region. 

As he reached the end of the street, about to step into the roadway that curved away from the children's playground, he looked back briefly, and shuddered. May no one ever find you,> he murmured. I pity anyone who does.> 

One small human girl nearby looked up and met his eyes for a brief instant. "And well you may," she said. "Be glad you bear no enmity toward us." 

The adult shuddered again at the child's unchildlike words and look, and quickly stepped away from the village boundaries. It wasn't that he feared the children--they would never harm anyone without reason. Unfortunately, they had reason to dislike all too many. 

He'd never believed in the village, the legendary secret community begun by one Karen, former host to the founder of the Yeerk Peace Movement. He had heard it was a place the Yeerks could never find, where hosts were safe and any enemy quickly became nonexistent. He had dismissed it as the new folklore of the defeated humans. Everyone knew the Yeerk Peace Movement had been crushed almost as soon as the Andalites had, with a random changing of hosts that quickly revealed all of them. 

But he had seen it now, this tiny village which appeared to exist entirely outside of time. Populated entirely by children, one would think it to be largely defenseless, but the adult knew firsthand that this was not so. 

He hoped it was never discovered. Even the Yeerks did not deserve to be the focus of the defenses of the little village. 

The adult hurried away into the night. He never looked back. 

Even if he had, he would have seen nothing. Only the road, stretching to the horizon. 

The girl who had spoken watched him go. Her large green eyes sparkled with what might have been tears for an instant before she turned away, rejoining the complex game. 

An Andalite boy caught a Naharan in a patch of firelight, sweeping his tail-blade forward to brush the other child with the flat of it. Gotcha, Kliya!> he announced, and turned to run away. The Naharan twitched her tail once, and bounded off on all four paws, catlike ears and whiskers pricked. 

The human girl chased a Hork-Bajir child, but it was obvious her heart was not in it. Another human tagged her from behind. "Is something wrong, Karen?" he asked. "You aren't acting like yourself." 

She turned to him, forcing a smile. "No, nothing's wrong, Daren. I'm just sorry to see the adult go back." 

Daren nodded in understanding. "You're afraid for him--for us. For this world we've made, and the one we left behind." 

"Yes." 

"It's getting late. We ought to call an end to the Games." 

"You do it, Daren, please. Make sure everyone gets in all right. I…I need to think." 

The boy nodded again and hurried off into the night. Karen looked out, toward where the roadway had been. There was only a wall of swirling white there now. 

* * *

"Cassandra, my time's almost up," Tovi interrupted me. 

I sighed. I'd gotten caught up in the story again, and forgotten the time limit. "Sorry. I'll continue it next cycle." 

"Could you tell us a poem?" he asked hopefully. "I always like your poems. I remember them well, and they help me get through till next cycle." 

"Yes," the oldest, Sara, agreed. "Your poems are a great help, Cassandra." 

I smiled. "All right then. I happen to have one. It isn't really structured all that well, but I think it'll be...inspirational." 

Everyone leaned forward. I closed my eyes once more, remembering the words that had somehow become a poem without my even realizing it. 

> "Freedom is hard to define.   
No one seems to know just what it is,   
Least of all those who try to take it away.   
They tell us we are slaves,   
That we have no freedom.   
We do not act nor do we speak.   
They tell us we have no hope,   
That there is no way out.   
We do not try to escape.   
And yet I wonder--why not?   
We can believe   
we can hope   
we can dream   
we can speak.   
Even this poem is proof of that.   
So why do we not? 
> 
> They tell us we are slaves,   
That we have no freedom.   
What is freedom?   
True that they control us   
for now.   
But still we are free.   
For despite their words   
We do hope.   
And as for belief...   
So long as we do not believe their words   
we will remain truly free." 

There was silence. There were tears in Sara's eyes, and many of the other adults looked the same. Tovi was nodding vehemently. "Yes," he said, "that's how it is. Repeat it, Cassandra, I want to remember it." 

I did. Tovi echoed silently, his mouth shaping the words. 

Just when I think I understand humans, you come up with something like that,> came an Andalite thought-speak voice, the words tinged with astonishment, even wonder. 

I twisted my head to look. Our cage was near the edge of the human cages, and a female Andalite was confined just within hearing distance. I must have been talking a little more loudly than I had meant to. "What do you mean?" I asked. 

Look around you. They've given up. Everyone's given up. The Hork-Bajir, the Gedd, even we Andalites. And what are you humans doing in the little time you have to yourselves? Telling stories and poems about freedom!> 

Glancing around, I had to admit she was right. The Hork-Bajir huddled against the sides of their cages; the Andalites lay with folded legs looking morosely at the locked sheaths on their tail-blades. 

I turned back to face her across the distance between our cages. "Maybe you ought to tell stories. It's something the Yeerks have never really been able to understand. It's our way of keeping the faith. Someday we'll all be free again." 

She shook her head. You're deluding yourself.> 

"You're being self-defeatist," I retorted. 

You're an ignorant child.> 

"You're a miserable adult." 

You're a primitive human.> 

"You're a conquered Andalite. So what? Are we about done trading insults? It's pretty pointless." 

A tiny quantity of respect entered her voice. Perhaps you are correct, human.> 

"I'm Cassandra." 

And I am Lanita-Parilas-Halian.> 

Tovi laughed. "Your charm just won you another friend, Cassandra," he said. 

Just then a Hork-Bajir unlocked our cage door, and pulled out both Tovi and me. We were pushed into line, slowly walking out onto the infestation pier. A Hork-Bajir took hold of my arm and lowered my head to the liquid. 

I felt Tariss push her way into her ear. It was hers again now. Do you want to know what I did?> I asked her. 

If I had the slightest interest in knowing, human, I could get it from your mind.> 

I told a poem, and started a story.> 

This is no different from all the other times.> 

Do you want to hear the poem?> 

Irritation crept into Tariss's voice. No, I do not.> 

I'll tell you anyway. Freedom is hard to define,> I began, and recited the poem to the Yeerk. 

Typical human idealism,> Tariss sneered, but it lacked any venom. 

Why, thank you.> 

It wasn't a compliment.> 

I know.> I gave an irritatingly smug mental smile, and Tariss nearly forgot how rude it would be to speak to me aloud in front of others. 

Another cycle. Three days before I could continue the story, before I could see and talk with my friends again. Tariss knew how much I missed them, of course she did. I could never hide anything. But I would tell her the story sometime during the cycle when she was off guard, and she would want to hear the rest. 

Sometimes I think that perhaps if she weren't a Yeerk, Tariss might have become a Storyteller in her own right. She always likes my stories, even if she won't admit it; sometimes she even likes my poems. You can't spend three years with someone inside your head without getting to know them pretty well. 

Dream on, human.> 

I laughed silently and got down to dreaming--of poems, of my story. Of new friends and old, of Tariss and Lanita and Sara and Tovi. Of freedom. 

How can hosts say this life is boring? There was so much I had to think about before the next cycle came! 

* * *

Karen looked around, assuring herself a final time that everyone was where they were supposed to be. Daren stood to her left, the Naharan named Kliya to her right, and representatives of every species in the village were in the circle. Around the small group clustered all the children of the village. One human child stood in the center of the circle who had never been there before, a boy named David. 

In a net hanging from the ceiling was the Time Matrix, glistening a pure white, looming above the children's heads. 

"We are the children of the Hidden Village," Karen began the ceremony. 

Daren continued, "We exist outside of time, outside of the universe." 

"We exisst in thiss universse, one we have created of the hopess and dreamss of uss all," a Ssstram named Saiar said. 

"We are the lost children, those who for many reasons were never children before, who now may become adult." 

"One of us is now ready to leave this universe for the one outside." 

All the members of the circle looked at David. "Have you been fair and honest in the Game?" 

"Have you played with understanding of others and yourself?" 

"Will you continue to be fair, honest, and understanding outside?" 

"Will you fight against injustice and cruelty, not with weapons, but by showing what is right?" 

"Will you never use the ways of those you fight against to defeat them?" 

"Are you ready to leave us and become an adult?" 

David shut his eyes for a brief moment. "I am ready. I will remember always what I have learned in this village, and when all have become adult, the universe outside will be equally peaceful." 

Karen nodded. "We who are still children will not forget the adults, but will join them when we in our turn become adult." 

"Those who are adult will not forget what they have learned." 

Together we will make the universe better, not by killing but by showing what is right.> 

"Many races will join us, and there will be many who fight against us." 

"We will not use their own tactics against them; we will not be drawn into their fights." 

"This universe will remain as a refuge for those who need it, but now it is time for one new adult to leave." 

"Those who have played the Game and showed themselves to be fair and honest, understanding and joyful, and who now are ready to play the greater game outside this universe, are the adults." 

"David joins them today," Karen completed the ceremony. All the members of the Inner Circle reached up and placed their hands on the Time Matrix simultaneously. 

The surface of the Time Matrix seemed to go through a prism as scintillating colors replaced the white, swirling down the sides and caressing the hands of the children with warmth. 

David looked at his best friend, a Mak named Trkpn, eyes filling with sorrow for a moment. "Goodbye!" he called. 

The Time Matrix glowed, and a portal formed around David. For an instant he Karen saw him growing rapidly, to the appearance of a human around twenty years old. Then he was gone, back into the true universe. 

Trkpn reached forward for a moment, his gills turning a deep blue in sorrow. "I will miss you," he whispered. "I look forward to the day when I can join you." 

As the children began to leave, Karen laid a hand on his shoulder. "It won't be long. And it will seem only seconds to David." 

The color lightened to his normal off-white. "Thank you." 

She smiled. "My job, Trkpn." 

"How long, Karen? How long before we are all ready to help those in the other universe?" Trkpn shook his head. "It seems forever." 

"You know time isn't the same here and there," Karen reminded. "So it makes no difference to them how long it takes us to be ready." 

"How will they know it? You've seen the state it is in. We all have. What if they forget us?" 

"They won't. You misjudge their memories--and their hopes." Karen glanced upward, at the Time Matrix. "I've found ways of communicating with those outside." 

Trkpn's gills turned faint purple in a smile. "Then you are almost ready to go yourself." 

"Yes. Daren can take over for me here, and Kliya. But I have to go back soon. I have to be there before the rest, to prepare." 

"You'll need help." 

"I'll have help. A few others are going with me, and some people I can count on are already there." 

The Mak paused and looked at her. "Aftran? The Yeerk peace movement?" 

She shook her head. "I don't know. None of those who find us have known anything about the peace movement--or Aftran." 

"I'm coming with you." 

"No, you aren't. Faieya is coming, and Dalia-Ratani-Nekan, and Tari Hamee. You don't need to come. Aieia would miss you too much." Karen sighed. "I'm sorry, Trkpn, but you can't come." 

He held her eyes for a long moment, and finally nodded. "All right. But be careful, Karen, please? You know we'll never succeed without you." 

Karen snorted. "No, I don't know that. But don't worry, I'll be fine." 

"When do you leave?" 

"Soon." 

* * *

I stopped speaking. Tovi's eyes were fastened on my face as he absorbed the story, the others not quite so engrossed but still listening intently. A glance toward the other cages caught Lanita watching us with all four eyes for an instant before she turned away and tried to pretend she hadn't been paying attention. I smiled very slightly. 

I'd gone on too long, though. Two Hork-Bajir were already at the door of the cage. I wondered briefly if they'd heard, and if so, whether they had let me stay a little longer because of it. It had happened before, both hosts and Yeerks listening in on stories. 

The two unlocked the cage and beckoned me, Tovi, and several others. Time was up again. "You'll have to wait until next cycle for more," I said with a sigh. 

Tovi grinned at me as he was led out. "It's worth the wait." 

"I'm glad you think so," I smiled back. 

Infestation again. Controlled again. Dreaming again, talking only with Tariss. Another three days. 

Three days, the same amount of time as always. Nothing had changed. So why did I feel as though there would be a great change in everything during this next cycle? 

My imagination, doubtless. But even as the Hork-Bajir lowered my head to the pool liquid and I felt Tariss's tingling touch in my ear, the feeling didn't go away... 

* * *

"First we'll need to find out whether there's still any active resistance to the Yeerks," Karen decided as she stared out the window of an old shack. "Anything at all. The Yeerk peace movement, the Andalites, the humans, anything." She was adult now, a human woman perhaps twenty years of age. Her bright red hair was slightly darker, but her green eyes were as brilliant as ever. 

"And how are we going to manage that?" asked Faieya skeptically. "Somehow I don't think the Yeerks will take it very well if we walk up and ask, 'Excuse us, but is anyone still fighting you?'" The Naharan was also adult, her dark tabby pattern perfect for blending into the shadows. 

No, of course not. But there are still records, aren't there?> Dalia asked Karen. 

Karen smiled slightly. "Living records. And I know just where to find them." 

Only an hour later, Karen stood at the door of a ruined house. Once, it had been the house of Erek King, a Chee. She just hoped the Chee were still there. 

She knocked on the door. There was no response. Her heart sank, but she pushed the door open and picked her way over the rubble-covered floor. The basement, she remembered from what Aftran had transferred to her. The way in was through the basement. 

The stairs were narrow and wooden, beginning to rot apart. Karen cautiously made her way down, gripping the railing to keep from breaking the fragile wood. "Erek?" she called. "Erek, I need your help." 

There was a soft sound of movement from one side of the basement as Karen reached the ground. An apparently human man stepped out of nowhere. Karen looked at him in surprise. "Is that you, Erek?" she asked doubtfully. 

The Chee looked at her grimly. "How did you find us, Yeerk?" 

Karen sighed in relief and grinned. "I'm not a Controller, Erek. I'm Karen, the former host of Aftran Nine-Four-Two. Do you remember me?" 

Erek stared for a moment. "Impossible," he stated flatly. "Karen would be far older, if not dead. And she died near the beginning of the open war." 

"I would be, but I haven't been here, exactly. And I escaped. You'll remember I was assumed dead. No one really knew for sure." Karen shook back her red curls in irritation. "But that doesn't matter. I need to know if there's anyone still fighting the Yeerks. Especially here on Earth, but anywhere else too. I've been...preparing a group to free Earth again." 

There was a pause as Erek's holographic eyes met Karen's green ones. Finally he nodded. "It will do no harm to tell you that, I suppose," he said. "There is a small group among the Yeerks which is still working for peace despite the destruction of the peace movement Aftran began, but no one knows who they are. And the Hawjabran are coordinating a resistance, on Earth and the Andalite homeworld, and quite possibly on other planets as well. Why do you want to know?" 

"I told you. I've been in sort of a different universe for...however long it's been, and I've been getting people ready to retake Earth, and then the other planets. A few others and I are here as an advance scout force, to see what things are like before everyone comes." 

For the first time, a spark of excitement came into Erek's eyes. "How many?" 

Karen smiled. "As many as it takes." 

"We may be signing our own death sentences, but..." Erek shook his head. "You have the support of the Chee." 

* * *

Your typical idealistic sappiness,> Tariss said caustically. I'd just told her the next part of my story, and as usual she tried to pretend she didn't like it. You should know there is no chance Earth will ever be freed, and yet you still tell stories about it.> 

I gave a mental shrug. That's part of what stories are for. To explore possibilities and find the best ones.> 

And what else do you think stories are for?> 

I didn't bother answering. I felt Tariss dig into the parts of my brain where the answer lay. 

She laughed incredulously. To make possibilities real? You actually believe what you're saying? You truly think your stories are real?> 

How do you know they aren't?> I demanded. Maybe not here, maybe not now. But somewhere, what I say is real.> 

There was a short silence from Tariss. Sometimes I wonder about your sanity, human. You really do believe this.> 

I couldn't tell the stories if I didn't believe them.> 

Well.> Another pause, longer. I wondered what Tariss was thinking. Perhaps, human. We will see. Perhaps.> 

I am free, you know. We all are.> 

Tariss sighed mentally. Back to that poem of yours, are you? Of all the host bodies I've had, you are certainly the most stubborn--or maybe the craziest. You're controlled by a Yeerk, you can't move your own body. You're a helpless pawn in our wars. And yet you say you're free.> 

Yes. Until I forget to tell my stories and poems, until I give up, I am free. And as for being a helpless pawn--are you so sure you aren't as helpless as I? A character in someone else's story?> 

This time the pause stretched for five minutes or more. I have no time for your nonsense now,> she said finally. Leave me alone, human.> 

The vehicle we rode in, a public-transport tubeship, came to a stop. Tariss stood and walked out. I settled back to a tiny corner of my mind with a faint sense of victory. 

Tariss had been ordered to report to Sub-Visser Sixty-two, to help with some problem or other. Probably nothing major, but Tariss was happy about it; if she did a good enough job, she might get a promotion. That meant she might be transferred to a new host. It seemed likely, since I wasn't a particularly powerful or useful host. I wasn't sure whether or not Tariss would be happy about it. I wasn't even sure whether or not I would be happy about it. If she was transferred, it might mean that I got a more sympathetic Yeerk, but it would almost definitely mean I would leave behind Tovi and Sara and Lanita, going to some other schedule, possibly even a different pool. 

That would mean they might never hear the rest of the story. It was a silly thing to be upset about, very likely the least of my worries, but it stuck in my mind nonetheless. What if I was put in a pool where all the hosts were kept unconscious while the Yeerks fed? Or one which kept every host separate? There weren't many, but they did exist. And then no one but me would ever know how the story ended. 

Except whatever Yeerk I was assigned to, of course. But that hardly counted. 

We'd reached the place where all the Sub-Vissers and Vissers on Earth had their offices, a tall building with a spire on the very top. It was an off-white color, the outer walls constructed of Ramonite. Tariss walked up to the door and touched the entrance plate. "Tariss Two-Three-Six of the Niam Tras pool," she said. 

The wall shifted, becoming an entryway. Tariss strode inside. I felt her nervousness as she took a deep breath. 

Just within was a dropshaft, which pulled us upward toward the higher floors. Someday I will live here,> Tariss said. Here, or in an equivalent place on another planet.> 

I said nothing. She already knew that I didn't think she'd have the chance--at least not here on Earth. 

You are hopelessly stubborn,> she told me in irritation. 

I try.> 

Sub-Visser Sixty-two was the third-ranked Yeerk on Earth, so his floor was near the top. The drop-shaft knew where Tariss was supposed to go, and it brought us to a halt on the right level. Tariss stepped out, and we moved down the short hallway and into the sub-visser's office. 

He had an Andalite host, so there were no chairs. Tariss bowed her head slightly. "The Kandrona shine and strengthen you, Sub-Visser," she said. 

And you, Tariss Two-Three-Six,> he replied absently. You're here for your new assignment. You will take charge of a task force and hunt down the small group of rebels in Arrain Eram.> 

I felt Tariss's sudden jolt of misgiving. "I had not heard about that, sir." 

The sub-visser looked briefly surprised. You hadn't? Oh, right, right, it's top-secret, of course you haven't. It's nothing big, but we can't have word leaking out, now can we? There're a few humans and others who've been causing trouble. Might be escaped hosts, which is why we want it taken care of as quickly as possible. Crushed. You can recapture the hosts if it's convenient, but there's no real need. I'm sure the members of your task force will tell you anything else you need to know when you get there.> 

"And where am I to go?" 

Didn't I say? Arrain Eram. You'll take the transtubes there. You'll be given a new host, as well. An Andalite.> Sub-Visser Sixty-two smiled with his eyes. But it seemed somehow lacking, far different from Lanita's. Maybe only real Andalites could smile that way, not Yeerks within Andalites. Best host for fighting!> He gave a mock swing with his own tail-blade, which had been polished until it shone like a mirror. 

Tariss bowed again, a human custom the Yeerks liked, and murmured, "Thank you, Sub-Visser." 

Not at all, you've been efficient and loyal, and I'm sure you're the best person for the job. If you succeed you'll be rewarded, naturally. Now, your new host awaits at the pool on the lower floor. Just tell the guards who you are.> He turned back to his work, waving a hand in dismissal, but one stalk eye watched us until we had left. 

He doesn't look like he's all that dangerous, but he's one of the rising stars in the Yeerk Empire,> Tariss confided to me as we reentered the dropshaft. 

I was in shock. Tariss would get a new host already, someone far more suited to her probable new rank, and I...well, I would wait around until I was reassigned. And Tovi, my friends...they might not even know what had happened to me. Almost certainly we would never be in the same cagegroup again. 

Tariss twitched uncomfortably. If it means that much to you, I'll try to get word to your friends,> she muttered silently. Just because you haven't been all that bad of a host. Your stories were kind of entertaining every once in a while.> 

If I'd had control, my mouth would have dropped open. Tariss, thank you! It'll be so much easier, knowing that Tovi knows I'm all right. I hope nothing bad happens to you,> I added. I can't say I hope you succeed.> 

You're still a hopeless idealist,> Tariss told me without any sting to her words. But I suppose idealism has its place. May your next Yeerk be a tolerant one.> 

We'd reached the pool level. The pool itself wasn't as big as my last one, but it was far more luxurious. There were few people around. I assumed this was for the high-ranked Yeerks who worked and lived here. 

Tariss headed for the pier, where a Hork-Bajir guard looked at her curiously. "I am Tariss Two-Three-Six," she told him. "I was sent by Sub-Visser Sixty-two. You have a new host for me?" 

"I do. You will feed. I will bring your host when it is time," he told her. "This one will wait here until I receive orders." 

Tariss nodded. "Very well." She walked down the pier, accompanied by the Hork-Bajir. She couldn't seem sentimental about leaving me, as that would be a huge embarrassment for her, maybe even costing the promotion. But she said, Goodbye, Cassandra,> very quietly, just as she slipped out. 

The guard had a firm grip on my arm. My short black curls and the side of my face dripped with the pool liquid, and a single tear went unnoticed. 

[Home][2] || [Back to Archives][3]

Let me know if you like this. I may just keep going with both of these series. 

   [1]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	2. The Defeated, Chapter Two

The Defeated, part two Please read the first part of the Defeated [here][1] if you haven't already done so. Reviews are greatly appreciated. If you review, I'll try to get the rest of the story done soon... Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. 

The Defeated, part two   
translated by [DawningStar][2]

The cages in this pool were more comfortable than what I was used to, the bars and floor padded. There was one other person in the cave, a boy only a few years older than me. He looked up curiously as I was pushed in. "Hi, what's your name?" he inquired. 

"Cassandra." 

His eyes widened. "Really? You're the one who made all those poems and stories and stuff? That's great!" 

Disconcerted, I asked, "You've heard my stories?" 

"Well, not many of your stories, really," he admitted. "There aren't many good Storytellers around, so the stories don't travel very fast. But the poems--I've heard tons of those!" He grinned. "I especially liked the one about the Council of Thirteen. My name's Tal, by the way." 

I smiled back. That particular poem was an irreverent, mocking piece, all about the way the Council of Thirteen and the upper ranks of the Yeerks worked together--or didn't. From a Yeerk it would have been treason; from the hosts it was ignored. Few Yeerks had even understood that it wasn't entirely sincere. 

"But my very favorite is the one about the memories," Tal continued, suddenly entirely serious. "I...I have something to show you." He turned to the side of the cage and picked at the carpeting. A corner came loose, and Tal pulled it up and retrieved something from underneath. "It's sort of a hobby, and I'm not much good at it, but..." He held out a small wooden object, apparently hollow, with holes carved along its length. 

I reached to touch it gently. "It's very pretty. What is it?" 

"I think it used to be called a flute, maybe. It's a musical instrument." 

With renewed wonder, I studied the flute. A piece of the past. A human instrument, to make music. That was something I'd never heard, never even imagined, really. "And you know how to play it?" 

"A little bit. I taught myself, more or less." Tal raised the flute to his lips. "I made up a tune for your poem," he said shyly, and began to play. 

It was a plaintive melody, but not sad, and it seemed to fit my poem perfectly. The poem he spoke of had been one of my earliest works, one I was still proud of. Tentatively, I hummed the tune as Tal played, then began to sing softly as he went through it a second time. 

> "We cried in silence   
pleas unheard   
and slowly we gave in,   
We looked around   
and found no hope   
no way for us to win.   
We searched for help   
and meanwhile dreamed   
but our help never came,   
We dreamed of freedom   
dreamed of peace   
but war stayed just the same. 
> 
>   
And some forgot   
and some still dreamed   
and some in silence wept,   
And some gave up   
and some gave in   
and some the memories kept. 
> 
>   
Never forget   
but keep in mind   
the way things used to be,   
Right is still right   
and wrong is wrong   
this is what we must see.   
Empires fall   
and nations rise   
and peace will come someday,   
But we are here   
and here our task   
is showing the right way. 
> 
>   
And some forget   
and some still dream   
and some in silence weep,   
And some give up   
and some give in   
and some the memories keep.   
And some the memories keep." 

Tal lowered the flute, after a final trill. "You have a very pretty voice," he complimented me. 

"It doesn't compare with your flute," I told him with a smile. I was breathing fast, I'd been concentrating so hard on the song. It was beautiful, like nothing I'd ever done before. My own poem had become something even better, an entirely new art form. 

He smiled shyly. "I've never done this with anyone before, I just played, and sometimes sang. A duet is better." 

"I wouldn't know. How did you get the flute?" 

Tal turned it over in his hands, face coloring slightly in embarrassment. "The Yeerk assigned to me is a bit sentimental. He didn't want me to be bored here, especially since there isn't all that much company on this feeding cycle. So he managed to get hold of this--it was in one of the old Earth houses, a child's toy, I assume." 

I nodded. A sympathetic Yeerk was a rare find, but Tal was apparently one of the lucky ones. 

Just then, someone said, You remind me of the children.> 

An adult Andalite stood in a cage a few feet away from us. Tal rolled his eyes slightly. "Don't mind him, please," he murmured. "He's really very nice, even if he is a little..." He made a slight gesture around one temple, a symbol of insanity that had spread beyond Earth. 

I felt a chill of recognition--or no, not recognition, because I'd never seen him before. Something else. He seemed familiar, somehow, as if I knew him. 

"What children?" I asked. 

"Don't encourage him," Tal advised under his breath. I ignored him. I had to know. 

The Andalite looked pleased to be listened to. The children of the Village. I met them, you know. They offered to take me in, but I didn't want to. I'm not really a child, now am I?> 

For a moment a wild surge of speculation and hope rushed through me, but I pushed it down firmly. I was hardly the first to make a story about the legendary Village, after all. "No, I suppose not." 

Now I think maybe I should have stayed,> he continued, stalk eyes fixed somewhere beyond the ceiling of the room. I'll never get another chance. But I couldn't. There was too much to do here still. I couldn't wait for them to consider me ready.> He looked at me. You're like them, somehow. Do you think I was right?> he asked, all four eyes almost pleading for me to tell him that he had been. 

I wondered what to say. I wasn't even sure that he had been there at all. There was no way to tell for sure. But if...if it was true, and my story was becoming real... "I don't know. I think...I think they understand. I think you'll have a chance to help them yet." 

Tal sighed softly. "You're only making it worse," he muttered. 

The Andalite gave me a grateful smile with his main eyes. I believe you. You're the one who knows, after all, Cassandra.> 

The cage suddenly seemed cold. "How did you know my name?" I demanded. 

His expression turned puzzled. I don't know,> he replied. Maybe they told me who you were. I can't remember much of it any more.> 

"And who--who am I?" 

You're the author, of course. The Storyteller. You know who they are.> The Andalite smiled again, but this time it seemed sad, regretful. Remember me, won't you? My name is Palinit-Larins-Kiral.> 

"Of course, Palinit," I promised. "I'll remember you." 

"What was that?" Tal inquired. "Do you know what he's talking about?" 

I nodded slowly. "It's a story I told. It isn't even finished yet. Palinit--someone like Palinit was in it. And there's no way he could have heard it yet." 

Tal stared. "Could you tell me the story?" he asked finally. 

"I'm not sure. How much time do we have before one of us is taken?" 

He shrugged. "No idea. I'm a secondary host, and you aren't assigned yet. Plenty, most likely." 

"All right, then." I smiled. "Here goes." 

I told him everything I'd told Tovi and the others, and the part I'd recently told Tariss. Then I continued, into the newest part, the one that had formed even as I spoke with Palinit. 

* * *

Karen watched anxiously, hoping that the Chee were right that their holograms blocked detection by the Yeerk sensors. Of course they were right; they had to be right, or they would long ago have been discovered; but she was still nervous. 

Adults were appearing on the field in large groups, adults who had all been children in the world she had helped to create. As each group appeared, the Chee led them down into the huge underground area. Erek stood beside her, his eyes wide in wonder. "I thought you were exaggerating," he muttered, "or overestimating your forces, but this...where did they all come from? How?" 

"That's...a long story. Let's just say we've been waiting for this for a long time." Karen smiled. "We'll need to contact the other resistance groups, get everyone working together, or this will never work. You're our best chance for that. You Chee can't be infested and can't give anything away. You can go nearly anywhere, be almost anyone. So you can tell the other groups about us." 

Erek nodded. "It's probably the best choice," he agreed, "although it will be difficult getting the others to trust us. I don't suppose you have any Hawjabran among your group?" 

Puzzled, Karen said, "There are a few. Not many--we mostly rescued former hosts. But some Hawjabran found their way in. Why?" 

With a smile, Erek explained, "Hawjabran are generally trusted by the resistance groups, because they can't be infested. It'll still be tricky, but it'll be easier if you could send a Hawjabran with me." 

Karen blinked. "You intend to go yourself? I had hoped you would stay here. I...wanted to talk with you." 

"Actually, I think you'll want to be going somewhere yourself." Erek's smile became a wide grin. "We've made contact with Aftran. She's still alive." 

Speechless for a moment, Karen stared, mouth open. "She is? How?" 

"To tell the truth," Erek admitted, "we aren't exactly sure. The Animorphs rescued her and gave her the power to morph, and she chose a humpback whale to live in. But they don't normally live this long--especially with the way the oceans are these days." 

Karen nodded. The Yeerks had purposely polluted air, land, and water almost everywhere. And Erek was right. There was no way Aftran could have survived for so long, not as a whale, not in those oceans. But if she was still alive--"Interference," Karen muttered. The Ellimist, no doubt. And that was never an entirely good thing. 

Still, Karen felt a grin creep over her face. "You're right. I do want to talk with her. When can I?" 

Erek shrugged. "As soon as we get our plans underway. One of the Chee will take you and find Aftran." 

"Great. Let's get working, then." 

* * *

"I like it," Tal told me as I came to the end of what I had so far. "It's a good story, and you tell it well. What's more, it even seems possible. I don't know how Palinit heard it, but I can see why he inserted himself into it." 

I wasn't entirely certain about that, but I wasn't going to admit it to Tal. "I'm glad." 

He glanced downward, toward the flute in his hands, toying with it, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Do you have any poems you could tell me? If you want, I could put them to music. I'm not bad at composing tunes, but words are beyond me." 

I grinned at him. "I'd love it. There's one new poem I want everyone to hear, and this seems like the best way." 

"Yeah, your poems are spreading around the galaxy, and tunes make them easier to remember." 

My mouth dropped open. "Around the--you mean, off-planet? My poems, off-planet?" 

Tal nodded vigorously. "Yeah! I heard the Council one on the Yeerk homeworld! I put it to a tune, and I wouldn't be surprised if it'd reached all the planets by now!" 

Stunned, I stared at him. When he'd said he'd heard my poems, I had assumed that he meant here on Earth, that maybe he'd been in the same pool as I had on a different schedule at one time or another. And that poem on the Yeerk homeworld...I stifled a snicker. "O mighty Council! Your every decision/shall be honored and obeyed throughout/all worlds, for always your precision/and unanimity save the Empire--no doubt/even the hosts are eager to obey." 

Tal joined in, his words to a cheerful, catchy tune. "O mighty Council! Your ambiguous/decrees and laws we follow strictly, for/they show all your kindness. Unanimous/you direct us in peace and in war/throughout time you show the way." He grinned. "I hear maybe they're going to make it the national anthem." 

That time I couldn't suppress my laugh. "Thanks, Tal." 

"So what's the new poem?" 

I leaned back, putting my thoughts in order. "It's sort of an appeal for hope. Here goes. 

>   
Whispers echo through the night   
Ignored till now, and yet   
Words the silent people speak   
They cannot soon forget.   
Crashing thunder, pounding rain   
Should drown out their murmur   
But rolling through the planets now,   
It's only growing stronger.   
Whispers echo through the night   
Of hope, of freedom, peace,   
They try to crush the speakers,   
But the whispers never cease. 

I looked anxiously at Tal. His fingers were moving on his flute, almost unconsciously finding the notes to play. "Something like that, it's bordering on treason," he said soberly. "It could get you in trouble, Cassandra." 

"I know. But it has to be done. Besides, you know they won't pay much attention, if any." 

"Let's hope so." 

Hesitantly, I pointed out, "Making the tune might get you in trouble, too." 

He grinned. "Not much chance of that. I make up tunes all the time, even when they don't have words. Even if they decide to take it seriously, they wouldn't go after me." 

"I'm game if you are, then." 

In reply, he lifted the flute and played. A haunting melody seemed to fill the entire pool area. It wasn't cheerful, but then it wasn't depressing; I couldn't call it loud, but it wasn't soft; it certainly wasn't slow, and yet it was not fast-paced. But it was a tune that would stick in your head, one that would be impossible to forget. Perfect. 

Tal paused several times to go back over a few notes, but it didn't take long for him to pronounce the song completed. We sang it together a few times, until I was sure I could remember it. 

"Will anyone hear it?" I asked him. 

He nodded. "Look around. The people in the cages on the other side of the pool, they heard it. The Controlled hosts, they heard it. Even the Controllers heard it. And they'll repeat it, sing it. Others will hear. The song will spread." 

Tal sounded so certain. He'd seen more of life off-planet than I had, been transferred more often, knew more about most everything. I wished I could be so sure. 

He looked at me suddenly, speculation in his eyes. "Why is it so important, Cassandra? It's a message, I know that much, but to who?" 

I forced a laugh. "If I told you, you'd just say I was crazy. Not to any of the rebel groups, if that's what you're thinking." Not exactly, at any rate. "How could I be part of any of that? I'm getting transferred, after all." 

"No," Tal said, "I don't believe you have anything to do with the rebels. But you're a Storyteller. It's all right for you to be a little crazy." He turned away, his voice lower, sad. "We all are, to some extent. I'm sorry for what I said about Palinit," he added. "He just annoys me sometimes. It was for your characters, wasn't it? The song?" 

I nodded reluctantly. "Indirectly. I don't know, Tal, I just feel like...like we don't have long to wait. Like something's going to happen, something big." I grinned, abashed. "My Yeerk would laugh." 

I'd always thought that was a strange phrasing--'my Yeerk'. As though it were the hosts who were in control. Of course, every once in a while, I thought maybe we were. 

"Well," Tal told me, "if you're right...I'll be ready. So will others. Cassandra, I don't think you'll ever know how much difference your poems and stories make." 

No difference at all,> sneered an Andalite voice I recognized. Sub-Visser Sixty-two stood there, expression arrogant, stance disdainful. As though anything you hosts do could make any difference.> 

_If we really can't, why do you care?_ I thought silently. But as heedless as I usually was of Yeerk rules, I kept my silence. No point in angering the sub-visser. No doubt he'd be glad of any excuse to be rid of a potential troublemaker. 

Well,> he said finally, apparently slightly disappointed. I had hoped you had a bit more spirit. No matter, I suppose. Your reassignment is here.> He looked at the Hork-Bajir-Controllers, who immediately snapped to attention and hurried toward the cages. One unlocked the door to our cell. The other headed for Palinit's cage. I watched him, wondering briefly whether the Andalite could possibly be Tariss's new host. 

The Hork-Bajir reached for me, and I accepted her assistance in standing. No use even trying to resist. Besides, I was curious who I had been assigned to. 

"Bye," Tal whispered. 

I managed a small wave in acknowledgement. Then we'd reached the end of the pier, and my head was submerged in the pool liquid. 

[Home][3] || [Back to Archives][4]

   [1]: http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=150088
   [2]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [4]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	3. The Defeated, Chapter Three

The Defeated, part three Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. 

The Defeated, part three   
translated by [DawningStar][1]

There was a moment of familiar pain as the Yeerk pushed into my ear, then it faded. A Storyteller, are you?> came a slightly surprised voice, as she pried through my memories. Well, that's unusual. And you aren't nearly as hopeless as most of the hosts I've had recently. Even if you do have some strange ideas.> 

My name is Cassandra,> I said politely. I'd never seen any reason to try to ignore a Yeerk, though that was what many hosts chose to do. Even if they did know everything I did, I could still talk. May I ask what yours is?> 

I felt barely suppressed laughter through the barrier. You are a peculiar one, aren't you? I am Riae Four-Two-Nine, of the Iriem Palr Pool. Recently demoted for sympathizing with hosts,> she added. There was, oddly enough, no trace of bitterness in her voice or feel. I suppose I'd better be careful not to get attached to you. Somehow I get the feeling it would be all too easy, little strange one.> 

I was starting to like this new assignment. Do you come here to feed often?> I asked hopefully. 

No,> Riae said with what sounded like true regret, I'm afraid not. Not any more, at any rate. I've been assigned to Arrain Eram. You know, human Old New York.> 

Isn't there a host rebellion there?> 

What? Oh, right. Your former Yeerk was sent there,> Riae agreed, accessing the memories. Yes, there may be, but I'm sure it's pretty small. They all are. No one's put up a serious fight since we wiped out the Leerans. Except our fellow Yeerks, of course.> 

Had that been a hint of humor? Damage done by enemies/Is small compared to this:/Attacks aimed by our own friends/Will very rarely miss.> 

Now that was a definite laugh. I allowed myself a mental grin. 

You're quite the poet, little oddity. But enough of this.> Riae had already stood and begun to walk back, past the guards and the cages. I've many things to get done. Watch if you like, but I really can't talk just now.> 

I found that funny somehow. Apparently Riae was one of those rare Yeerks who accepted their hosts as equally sentient as themselves. For some reason the numbers of such Yeerks seemed to be growing recently. Tariss hadn't been bad, but she was ambitious, and that meant she had to keep up appearances. I'd understood. But Riae seemingly couldn't care less about her rank. 

Oh, you aren't quite right about that,> Riae murmured. I didn't tell you my rank yet, did I? I happen to be Visser Thirty-seven, formerly Nine. Pleased to meet you.> 

If I'd had control of myself, my mouth would have fallen open. A sympathetic Yeerk was rare enough, but one so high-placed was virtually unheard of. 

I should have been ecstatically happy at my good fortune, but cold suspicion crept in. Why would you want me as a host, then? And why are you being so nice?> 

Nice? Practical, rather. With what I expect to happen, I need your cooperation. And as to the first...well, it's easier to get rid of a human host than a Hork-Bajir or Andalite.> 

I absorbed that. You think someone will try to kill you. One of the other high-ranked Yeerks.> 

I knew you were a smart girl.> 

I've been assigned to you because I'm expendable. A possible troublemaker. A Storyteller.> 

Riae hesitated. I couldn't tell you about that. But it seems likely, yes.> 

It wasn't unexpected. I know what happens to Storytellers.> 

I felt that Riae wanted to ask me why I'd become one. But she didn't. Maybe she had already come across the answer. Or maybe she knew I wasn't entirely sure of it myself, and that what answers I had were illogical at best. She said only, I'm glad you have such strong feelings about it. It may make things easier.> 

I settled into a quiet corner of my mind where I could watch without bothering her, and wondered what she had meant. And I felt no probes, no intrusions into my thoughts. 

Riae was allowing me privacy. 

* * *

"So this thing will let me breathe underwater?" Karen asked nervously. She wore something rather like the old human wetsuits, but made of a material far superior to mere rubber. On her face was an almost gummy substance, which let air through. A tiny communications device was embedded within it. 

"Yes," the Chee assured her. Lourdes, she had told Karen to call her. "It will also protect you from the pressure, if we need to go very deep. A new thing. We 'borrowed' some of the technology from the Yeerks, just in case something like this was needed. There have been...strange goings-on underwater." 

Curiously, Karen inquired, "Like what?" 

Lourdes shrugged the shoulders of her holograph, a fairly young human woman. "Hard telling exactly. Nothing definite enough to pinpoint. But...something. We only knew Aftran was alive when she contacted the Chee watching the ship." 

Karen nodded, reluctantly accepting that the Chee knew no more. "Let's go." Readjusting the strange device on her face, Karen couldn't help but take a deep breath before she plunged into the dark ocean waters that hardly reflected the starlight and past the scummy top layer. 

Lourdes entered the water beside her, the android sinking quickly to the ocean floor. There was a faint crackle from the com unit. "She's met us off this way before," Karen heard. "I don't know how she knew, but Aftran's told us we should bring an old friend of hers here if she showed up. And she must have been talking about you." 

Karen tentatively inhaled through the mask, found only air in her mouth, and let out a slight sigh of relief. "How long ago was that?" 

"Not long. Three weeks." 

It wasn't hard to follow Lourdes, Karen found, her outfit holding her at whatever depth she wanted to be while the footgear enabled her to swim rapidly. A few minutes passed in silence as they traveled through a dark, almost lifeless ocean. Algae survived, near the surface, and a very few fish that ate it, but there was little movement beyond that top layer. 

And then--Karen gasped. They had emerged through a tingling barrier into an entirely different world. 

There was still very little light, hardly enough to see by, but even what she could see was little short of a miracle. Large and small fish swam by in schools, seaweed and coral grew on the ocean floor, and delicate sea horses and other creatures she didn't recognize hid among them. 

"How did you do this?" Karen asked incredulously. 

Almost proudly, Lourdes replied, "The Chee preserve life. We blocked this area from discovery with forcefields and holograms from the ship, and we provide food and light and filter the water. The Yeerks will not occupy Earth forever, and when they leave...we'll be ready. The planet will recover." 

And there must be other places, Karen thought, places in other parts of the world with different animals. I suppose I should have known we weren't the only ones who could resist the Yeerks. Because this is resisting them, even if it isn't violence or fighting. She grinned. "Even sooner than I could have hoped, Lourdes. This...this is magnificent." 

"Thank you," the Chee acknowledged quietly. "We cannot fight, but we do what we can. Earth is, after all, our home as well." 

"You have as much of a right to it as any human. More than some." Karen looked around, treading water. "Will Aftran be here soon?" 

"She is here now." 

Searching in mild surprise, Karen caught sight of the faint ripple in the holographic screen a moment before the humpback whale swam through. Karen?> came a hopeful thought-speak voice only barely recognizable as Aftran's. Are you there?> 

"Aftran, here I am!" Karen called excitedly, then in belated remembrance, "Can you hear me? Lourdes, can she?" 

I hear you,> Aftran said with faint amusement. The Chee provided me with a com unit. Karen, I'm so glad you're finally here!> 

"How did you know I was coming? Were you told?" 

Told by the one who never interferes,> she replied with dry humor, as you've probably guessed. Or not directly told, exactly. That might have been against the rules. And you? I knew you would be coming but not when--and you look awfully...young. Interference there, too?> 

"Not directly," Karen echoed Aftran, "though I have my suspicions. I and a few other kids found the Time Matrix a long time ago. We didn't know what it was at first, of course, but we figured it out. We created a sort of universe of our own, and we've been rescuing hosts ever since." 

There was an astonished silence for a moment, then Aftran said, You have been busy, then. I'll admit I expected you to be doing something, but that's incredible.> 

"What have you been doing? How long were you waiting?" 

I'm not sure,> Aftran admitted. Time doesn't seem to mean much down here. It's been quite a while, though.> 

"I have so much to tell you," Karen said, her voice cracking. She'd never thought to see Aftran again. The Yeerk who had willingly returned her freedom...and that had led to the formation of the Village. And begun the peace movement, which led who knew where? 

How many results had there been from Cassie's decision and near-sacrifice? Could anyone know? Karen had met the Animorph only briefly while she was in control of herself, but Aftran's transferred memories made it seem as though Karen had known Cassie all her life. 

Lourdes discreetly moved away, leaving the two in what privacy could be managed. 

* * *

Maybe I begin to see what you humans like so much about stories,> Riae remarked. From the first contact with humans, we Yeerks couldn't understand you and your stories. They seemed pointless, a waste of time. Lies we understood--we used those often enough--but not lies everyone knew were lies, or at least not true as we usually think of truth. Even my other human hosts didn't seem to understand it. Entertainment, they called it, but that wasn't all there was to it for them, even though they didn't seem to realize it.> 

I listened, astonished. Tariss had never been this open with me, never thought of criticizing the Yeerks as Riae did. On the one hand, I was glad of it--Riae and I were fast becoming almost-friends, nearly the closest Yeerk and host can be. On the other...it seemed as though Riae no longer cared about the danger she was putting herself in, speaking to me. 

It was almost as if Riae wanted someone to know how she felt. I'd heard of Yeerks confiding in their hosts occasionally, but usually only when the host was permanent or near-permanent. Often, the reason for the rumors was because the host had been reassigned and the Yeerk's secrets discovered. Talking like this was the act of a doomed Yeerk, marked for death. Which didn't bode well for either of us. 

Unfortunately, you're probably right,> murmured Riae. There isn't much hope you or I will get out of this alive.> 

We were on a Blade ship en route to Arrain Eram, piloted by elite Taxxons and Hork-Bajir. Even a dishonored, demoted Visser like Riate had a lot of privileges. But I had felt her half-reach for her Dracon beam any number of times. Even on board her own ship, Riae was nervous. 

What are you doing?> I asked for the tenth time. You've talked about everything else, why won't you tell me what's planned in Old New York?> 

A flash of intense fear passed through the mental wall that blocked her thoughts from me. I'm sorry, Cassandra,> Riae said sincerely. I can't. They know or suspect how I feel about the rest, but if something goes wrong before I complete my task...you're better not knowing.> 

I sighed silently. The worst part was, she was right. Whatever she was doing, if anyone suspected her and forced a change of hosts, there would still be a chance of success so long as I didn't know. And besides that, they might let me live if I were just another ignorant host. Maybe. All right, I understand. I won't ask anymore.> 

Thank you.> Riae felt uncertain in my mind, unsure. Her emotions had begun to leak through more strongly than ever. And she'd thanked me--me, a host! 

There was a long hesitation. I could feel that Riae wanted to ask me something, but at the same time she didn't want to know the answer, or didn't want me to know that she was interested. I wasn't sure which was more unbelievable. A Yeerk never asked a host for information--there was no need. A thought would bring any memory to the surface. 

But finally Riae said, I need to know something.> 

What?> I asked curiously. Why couldn't she just take it, I didn't mean to say, but I knew she'd heard anyway. 

Your memories wouldn't answer for you,> Riae replied to the unspoken question. I...I don't know if you can answer it. You'll think it a strange question, I'm afraid, coming from a Yeerk.> 

That's all right. Go ahead.> 

The pause stretched out for a moment, and finally Riae said in a rush, I want you to teach me to become a Storyteller.> 

I'd thought I was ready for anything she could say. I was wrong. You want to _what_?> 

I want to be a Storyteller,> she repeated more firmly. 

[Home][2] || [Back to Archives][3]

   [1]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	4. The Defeated, Chapter Four

The Defeated, part four Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. 

The Defeated, part four   
translated by [DawningStar][1]

I'd thought I was ready for anything she could say. I was wrong. You want to _what_?> 

I want to be a Storyteller,> she repeated more firmly. I want to know how you create stories, poems, the way you do. And I want to be able to do it myself.> 

I was speechless. There was a long moment of silence, as Riae held back from my mind and I tried to grasp what she was asking. Why? You already know all my stories, know how I tell them.> 

Yes,> she agreed, but I couldn't make my own just from that. I could retell any of your stories exactly the same as you do, but never tell an original idea. I need your help.> 

Still, why would you want to know?> 

Another long, uncomfortable silence. Finally she said, I admire your kind.> 

Humans, you mean?> 

No. Storytellers. You are a race all your own. I have thought so since I first met one of you.> Riae hesitated. I could show you...but you wouldn't like the seeing.> 

I shuddered very slightly. There was really only one way Riae could have met a Storyteller that fit that hesitation, and that was if she had been supervising an execution team. Most high-ranked Yeerks did, sooner or later. No, I likely wouldn't.> 

So...> Riae asked tentatively, will you?> 

Yes,> I said, I will. I don't know if I can really teach you anything, but I'll try.> 

I felt her relax in relief, and felt astonished. She really wanted to know this. Riae, a Yeerk, a very high-ranking Yeerk, had come extraordinarily close to begging a mere host to tell her something. 

There's still quite a bit of time on the trip,> she suggested. We could get started. No telling when we'll have another chance.> 

She was right. I sighed mentally. Very well, then.> 

* * *

"The major Yeerk Pools are here, here, and here," Karen said, tapping each one on the three-dimensional hologram on the table before her. "They are all well protected, far underground and covered with layers of heavy metals. The Vissers in charge of Earth have their base here. But they don't often stay there." 

We can't attack the pools,> Dalia said. There are too many people there, hosts and Controllers. And attacking the Vissers' base wouldn't do much good either.> 

"Right," Karen nodded. "But we have another option. There's a relatively minor host rebellion in Arrain Eram--that's human Old New York--" 

"_Old New York_?" repeated Daren in disbelief. "Who came up with _that_ name?" 

Karen shrugged. "I think it probably began as a joke, but these days nobody really remembers what it meant. In any case, despite the fact that the rebellion consists entirely of about fifty people, almost half of which are hosts that were abandoned as useless and then not killed, the Yeerks are sending in several fairly important people to take care of it. It's the principle of the thing--can't have rebellion seen as successful, or everyone would be trying it." 

Right,> agreed Dalia. That's sound military thinking.> 

"Course nobody thinks of actually _changing_ things, so nobody would _want_ to rebel," muttered Tari Hamee. 

Faieya grinned at the Hork-Bajir seer. "Nobody except you, Tari, so get started drafting plans for the changes." 

"Anyway," Karen said sternly. "According to the Chee, at least one of the higher-ranked Yeerks on Earth has become sympathetic with the human cause--a recently demoted Visser. Nobody knows quite why. A particularly persuasive host, perhaps, a bad experience, a betrayal by other Yeerks, or a combination of any of those--" 

"Or a trick," Faieya interrupted skeptically. The tabby-patterned Naharan's ears were flattened, a sure sign of her tension. 

"That possibility has been taken into account as well. Even with that, she seems our best chance. We already have one high-placed ally--you all know who he is, of course?" 

All four nodded. 

"But even among the Yeerks, one person can't do it alone. We need more help." 

"You're right," Daren admitted. "How will we make contact? Vissers aren't exactly easy to talk to." 

"We'll use one of the symbiote pairs. They can get in most easily. Um...probably Ilie/Rena. They're pretty well adjusted, they've absorbed the information, and you all know they're good actors." 

Daren grimaced. He'd been tricked more than once by that pair in the Games. 

Erek, listening from one corner, frowned. "What do you mean, symbiote pair?" 

Wincing slightly, Karen said, "We didn't tell you about them before. We thought you might not like it. We protected everyone in the Village--that includes a few Yeerks. None of us can exactly be infested any more--I mean, it's possible, but the Yeerk is likely to start seeing things differently not long afterward. A few voluntary hosts found their way in and chose to stay along with their Yeerks. Ilie was one of the first. She and Rena didn't want to be separated, so they've both been...shifted. Rena now has partial control, and Ilie no longer needs Kandrona rays so long as they're together." 

The android stared for a moment. "You're right, I don't like it. Are you sure they can be trusted?" 

Dalia rolled her eyes. They wouldn't be here if we weren't.> 

Erek held up his hands. "All right, sorry. It's just been so long...we've begun to forget what we were fighting for in the first place." 

"And what was that?" Faieya asked innocently. Erek shot her an annoyed look, and she grinned. 

"No teasing," Karen admonished the Naharan. "We have too much to do to play around." 

"Sorry," the other said unapologetically. "I'll go find Ilie/Rena while you guys work out the kinks in the plan, shall I?" She darted away, leaving the rest to look after her with expressions ranging from amusement to exasperation. 

* * *

There's no guarantee I can teach you,> I warned again. It doesn't always matter how much someone wants to learn. There've been a few who loved the stories, but just couldn't tell their own. It takes a certain...> I paused. Talent wasn't right, nor was aptitude. Gift came closer, but still didn't quite describe it. A certain...> It did take determination, but that wasn't what I was looking for either. Well, something,> I gave up finally. 

And Yeerks have never been known for their creativity,> Riae agreed with a hint of humor. Even our technology we stole from other races. Any new developments now mostly come from the hosts of scientists, not the scientists themselves.> 

I hadn't known that. But the Yeerks prefer weak-minded hosts...> 

There are many definitions of weak, Cassandra. For the most part, we do try for hosts unable to resist our control. But...well, you are considered a weak host. You do not fight, you don't try to resist. Not the way they think of resistance.> 

I thought of the Chee, of Tal's songs, of my own stories and poems. There are many definitions of resistance as well.> 

She gave a mental smile, keeping our real face straight. I know.> 

What should I teach you first?> I wondered aloud, trying to remember how I had been taught. It had been sort of an informal thing, as far as I recalled--an older Storyteller had been a part of my cagegroup, I'd expressed my interest, and eventually he'd taught me. 

But first he'd explained the disadvantages to becoming a Storyteller, such as a young death and contempt from the Yeerks and even other hosts. I had told him I still wanted to do it, that I didn't think I could _not_ do it, and he'd smiled and begun to explain the basics of Storytelling. Not the stories themselves, but the way of looking at the world...how to find the stories. 

"There are stories everywhere, Cassandra," he'd said pensively. "Once you know how to look, that part is easy. And telling the stories...that will come with practice. You'll find it seems the best thing you've ever done. The hard part, for us, is our audiences. Even the Yeerks listen." 

I felt Riae keeping respectfully back from my memories, and might have laughed out loud at the absurdity of the whole thing if it had been possible. The first thing I was taught was how to find stories,> I said. How to look at the world. I'm sure you already know what you're getting yourself into.> 

Yes,> she agreed, almost in a whisper. I caught a leaked glimpse of a memory. A human man, standing on the platforms used for disintegration, a look of something like pity in his dark eyes, and still telling his last story... 

I shivered, hoping I'd be so brave when the Yeerks finally decided I'd grown too dangerous to live. There are stories everywhere,> I began. The important thing is knowing how to look...> 

* * *

"You've been on the Andalite Homeworld for the last few years, working for Visser Six. You've just been reassigned to Visser Thirty-seven. I managed to keep your name the same. Just report to her headquarters in Arrain Eram, and they ought to let you in." 

"All right," Ilie nodded. She looked searchingly at the android in front of her. "You don't like us, do you?" 

The holographic image of a human face tightened. "No, I don't. I find anyone who chooses to let a Yeerk control them very hard to like." 

You knew we'd find this,> Rena reminded. Even the newcomers to the Village felt the same way. He'll come around.> 

I know.> But it was impossible for the Yeerk to hide her emotions from her human partner, and at the moment she was feeling hurt at Erek's rejection. "Rena and I are friends, Erek. Is that so hard to understand? Didn't you control a Yeerk--without their permission? Don't judge us, Erek." 

His jaw clenched in resentment. "You have no right--" he began. 

"No right? And what right do you have to question us?" Ilie broke off and took a deep, calming breath. 

Rena pushed her way into control. "It's Rena, now," she informed him. "Ilie and I have spent the last thirty years, subjectively, in the Village." 

"I don't want to hear it," Erek gritted. 

"I was involuntary, once. Then I met Ilie, and we became friends, of a sort. Eventually, I rescued her when she got in trouble for rebellion, disloyal sentiments, and we escaped together." 

"I _don't_ want to hear this," Erek repeated, beginning to turn away, anger clear in his expression. 

"And then we found the Village. We just stumbled onto a trail one night, running away from everyone. It was impossible, a tiny trail that led right off a major road, it would never be allowed...but we were being chased by Taxxons and neither of us was in any mood to complain. I don't know why it was there. Karen's never told me how people enter the Village, if it's pure chance or some design." 

Erek was no longer looking at them, but neither was he walking away. Rena took that as a good sign. She pressed on. 

"We'd been almost as close as Yeerk and host can get, before. But even that involves a certain amount of fear and distrust. How could I completely trust someone who could crush me entirely, never even let me speak? How could she make friends with someone she'd been taught all her life was little better than an animal, someone she could control with a moment's thought?" 

Now he had begun to lose the angry set to his shoulders. Feeling hopeful that perhaps she was getting through, Rena continued, "Karen, the Villagers, they changed that. They made it possible for Ilie and I to become equal partners." She smiled. "I'm not even sure how they did it. But somehow, they changed me to produce Kandrona rays, and Ilie so that she could no longer have total control over me." 

Erek looked back toward them. "I can't trust you," he said bluntly. "Maybe it's a character flaw of mine, to be slow in forgiving. But we've spent too much time fighting the Yeerks for me to trust one." 

Rena nodded. "We understand that. We don't expect your trust, or friendship. But couldn't you at least try to respect us? Understand us?" 

Very slowly, Erek bent his head in acquiescence. Then he hurried away. 

That went about as well as could be expected,> Rena remarked. 

Ilie, too, had lost much of her anger. Thank you, Rena,> she said sincerely. I overreacted. I am sorry.> 

Don't worry about it. You just take care of things, and I'll patch up your messes.> 

Ilie laughed silently. But there was a good deal of truth in it. The reason the two made such good partners was, in part, that Ilie was talkative and could speak her mind regardless of the consequences, while Rena understood far better the people around her but had a tendency to be overly cautious. 

Do you really think we can do this?> Rena asked, somber again. 

Yes,> Ilie replied, I do. No one questions a Visser's orders, even a suspected traitor's, and the Chee network is excellent at getting and falsifying information. Despite their faults.> 

And convincing the Visser?> 

That won't be easy, more than likely. You must admit the story sounds improbable.> 

Karen said this one would have a reason to believe us.> 

Wish we knew what it was.> 

Rena sighed. You ever get the feeling she thinks it's funny not to tell us anything and then watch our faces when we find out?> 

Her friend laughed again. 

* * *

Beautiful,> Riae scoffed. How can you find any beauty in...in that?> She made a tiny, quickly aborted gesture out the window. Sickly yellow clouds roiled against the wind created by the passing ship, and the stars above were faintly visible, the thick atmosphere clouding them even this far up. It's poison, a sign of our contamination of your world.> 

Well, yes. But it's beautiful.> I sighed mentally. The argument had continued for a full half-hour now. Probably it was more beautiful before. But even yet you can't get rid of its beauty.> 

Explain it again,> Riae requested pleadingly. I'm sorry, Cassandra. I'm trying, I really am, but I just don't see it.> 

Baffled, I looked out the window again. How do you explain something like that? It's in the complexity, the random patterns,> I mused. The way the wind blows the clouds, and the color reflects off the water vapor, and the way it looks solid but isn't. The shapes. You can almost see pictures in the clouds, if you unfocus your eyes and look at them the right way.> 

Riae tilted our head and stared out with eyes just slightly crossed. I don't get it. What does this have to do with Storytelling, anyhow?> 

Maybe this hadn't been the best way to start. Riae had been trained from the first time she'd infested a host to see order as the way the world was supposed to be, I realized suddenly, to create simplicity of complexity. She just couldn't handle the chaotic complexity of a human's--no, a Storyteller's worldview. 

All right, we'll leave that for later. You want to learn to tell stories, so let's do that.> 

_Thank_ you,> Riae said in tremendous relief. Once again I shook my head at the ludicrousness of the entire thing. 

I don't suppose you already have any ideas?> I felt Riae's negative answer before she could even say it. All right. I'll start you off this time, then. Tell me a story about...um...about...the Battle of Leera. Tell it however you like, but focus on one person.> 

There was a long pause. How should I start?> Riae asked finally. 

Well, 'once upon a time' is traditional. So is 'a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,' if it's appropriate. Or you could just jump right in.> 

Once upon a time,> she began uncertainly, there was a Yeerk named...named Kilani Five-Three-Two, of...the Sulp Niar Pool. She was a human-Controller at the time, and she had just been assigned to Visser Four's blade ship...> 

I listened carefully to her short tale, trying hard to keep any opinions suppressed below the level of thought until I'd heard it all. It wasn't long, only a few minutes, and it was obvious Riae didn't have much experience...but there was the feeling in her words that was a necessity of a good tale. Riae wasn't a Storyteller, not yet...but she was becoming one. 

[Home][2] || [Back to Archives][3]

* * *

Many thanks to the people who have reviewed this story (it's all _your_ fault I've continued), and especially to Anifan1. 

   [1]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	5. The Defeated, Chapter Five

The Defeated, Part Five _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Five   
by [DawningStar][1]

You liked it?> Riae asked anxiously. 

It was very good, Riae. Very good.> I gave a mental smile. I'd long held to the belief that a Yeerk could, in fact, be a Storyteller, but none of those assigned to me had ever done anything but ridicule the idea. Riae might well be the link needed between Yeerk and host, since Storytellers were widely respected, even among species like the Andalites who didn't see the point in the stories. Do you mind if I go over a few points with you?> 

No, of course not. That's the best way to learn.> 

Good.> 

The discussion lasted most of the remaining time on the ship. Riae reacted to my observations exactly as I would expect any good Storyteller to--she admitted I was probably right in most cases, but there was a feeling of injured pride she couldn't entirely suppress. 

I understood that perfectly. I'd felt just the same way while I was learning. But it was a sign that she would do well. Not because she didn't like hearing it--that was something that just couldn't be avoided--but because she was willing to listen. 

We had just finished that and I was trying to explain poetry when one of the Hork-Bajir honor guard came back toward our seat. "We will be landing in a few minutes, Visser," he said in guttural tones. 

Instantly Riae had retaken complete control of me. "Very well, Ralin Six-Four-Seven. There have been no transmissions?" 

"No, Visser." 

She nodded in dismissal and he turned to go back to the forward compartment. A loyal Yeerk, Ralin,> Riae commented. Not many of those left. Not personal loyalty, of course. No one can afford that these days. He's just loyal to whoever he's assigned to this week. One of the few people I come close to trusting.> 

Was that a tone of nostalgia in her voice? 

Yes,> she confirmed, I do rather miss the old days. Back when there was actually an enemy to fight, not just each other...> 

The old days always look better. Mostly wishful thinking. You can't tell me there wasn't political infighting under Esplin Nine-Four-Double-Six, for example.> 

I wouldn't try. He's legendary. Fast track to promotions, serving under him--for the ones who survived, at any rate.> 

And that was back when the war was at its peak.> 

True, true...ah, well. No use thinking about it now. There's probably never been a government without political infighting, as you put it.> 

I hesitated. Riae...> 

She knew what I wanted to ask. For a while during her story and the following discussion, she had pulled back, away from my thoughts, but now she was listening again. That's classified information. You'd get in trouble.> 

So? I'm already in trouble. So are you. And sharing memories with a host, even classified memories, isn't exactly counted as a major crime.> 

There was a long silence. I felt Riae open my thoughts, almost unconsciously finding why I wanted to know. All right,> she said at last. I'll show you. It'll take a while...> 

That's all right. Probably better for you not to be distracted while you meet your team anyway.> 

Very well.> The two of us let out one long breath. What the Vissers think of Storytellers,> she mused. It was the first time I'd attended a meeting of the top Vissers, just after my promotion to Visser Nine...Are you sure you want to know, Cassandra?> 

Yes.> 

And I no longer saw through my own eyes as the interior of the ship dissolved... 

  
  


_"Vissers One through Ten, assembled by request of Visser Two. The Council awaits your report, Visser Two." _

The voice was unemotional, but clear of any trace of static. One would never know it came from a different world, broadcast through Zero-space on a heavily coded and split frequency. Riae shifted a human foot nervously. The most junior Visser there, it wasn't likely she'd be called on for anything...but it was possible, and Riae found herself hoping it didn't happen. Illogical. She should have been eager for the chance to serve the Council of Thirteen. But she could not deny the fear, and it made her wonder if perhaps she was not cut out for high rank. 

Visser Ten sneered at her from his seat, Hork-Bajir face twisting in hatred. One rank lower than she, several years her senior. She knew he resented her promotion over him. She'd have to watch him closely. 

"Thank you, Councilors," Visser Two said, standing. "And you, my fellow Vissers, for coming." 

He knew how to give a speech, she'd say that much for him. As though they'd had any choice but to come. The Council had ordered their appearance, and they'd obeyed. 

"As you know, I have been researching the uprisings of the rebel faction calling themselves the Yeerk Peace Movement, or the resistance," he continued. "I have found some disturbing correlations between the Yeerks known to be involved in this faction and their hosts." 

There was a small rustle through the chamber. It wasn't considered precisely polite to discuss hosts. It was a necessary evil to take over other races if the Yeerk Empire was to survive, but better not to discuss them. They were animals, no more. 

That's what you think,> Riae's own host whispered. A human female, she was for the most part reasonably cooperative. She'd given up entirely. But still she wouldn't let that pass silently. 

Visser Two looked faintly amused at the disturbance. "I know," he said, "I'm being terribly crude. My apologies. However, the evidence is such that I feel I must let you know of it." 

Visser One nodded slightly, Andalite head motioning ever so slightly for the other to continue. 

"These statistics are based mostly on the large-scale captures several years ago, with a few older and more recent records included," the Visser began. "Nine of ten Yeerk rebels had been assigned human hosts at the time they rebelled. Nearly all of those remaining had once been human-Controllers." 

This means nothing,> Visser Four broke in. Riae eyed the Andalite-Controller with concealed dislike. An opportunist if ever there was one, he'd take any chance to point out mistakes others had made. The majority of hosts are human. Naturally most of the rebels would be human-Controllers, low-ranking scum that they are.> 

Now there was a sentence that could be taken several ways. A couple of the human-Controllers in the chamber bristled slightly, but it wasn't an insult to them--quite. 

Barely disguised humor touched Visser Two's voice. "Naturally. But there is more. I have taken the liberty of conducting a study of various hosts, their reaction to enslavement, and their effects on Yeerks. Despite the fact that most hosts have never known freedom, many respond at first with anger, making them unpleasant to live with for months or years. While inconvenient at times, this rarely has any effect on the Yeerk Controlling them. 

"But eventually they all give up. I'm sure we've all seen them. They sit in their cages staring at nothing, hoping to die. And we know there won't be any more trouble from them. 

"Which is why one group I have found is so unusual." Visser Two glanced around. Riae could tell he was coming to the point of the dissertation. "There are a small number of hosts who neither scream nor despair. 

"This minority is occasionally sympathetic to the Yeerk cause, but always opposed to the infestation of involuntary hosts. What is more, they absolutely refuse to give up. They do not actively fight us, nor are they often involved directly in the peace movement, since hosts are liable to be reassigned at any time. Their resistance takes the form of lies told during the Yeerk's feeding time. These lies are apparently not meant to be taken seriously, but those who listen often are not quite so hopeless. They are more likely to have serious, lengthy conversations with the Yeerk assigned to them. Among the hosts, the people who tell these tales are called 'Storytellers'." 

Riae was startled to feel a faint prick of interest from her host. The human rarely paid attention to what happened outside, preferring instead to sink into a sort of half-asleep trance. 

What the hosts do to amuse themselves is none of our concern,> objected Visser Four. So long as they cause no trouble, why should we care?> 

A faint smile crossed the other Visser's face. "Patience. I'll get to it. While there are representatives of other races among these Storytellers, most are human, and therefore the majority of the listeners are human, since the various races are usually kept separate. 

"Some ninety-five percent of the Yeerk rebels had been assigned to a Storyteller or someone who listened to one for a long period of time. I find that significant, since such hosts are a minority." 

Visser Two sat, his smile growing broader. He knew he'd made his point. That overwhelming statistic had silenced even Visser Four. 

There was a moment of silence. "What do you suggest we do about these Storytellers, then?" asked Visser Three, her Ssstram mouth slurring the words slightly. "If they are such a minority as you suggest, would it be best to eliminate them?" 

"If you kill them off, others will pop up," Visser Five disagreed. "We must find some way of neutralizing their effects altogether." 

"If we publicized their deaths--" 

"Then the rebels and the other hosts would believe we had something to fear from them, and we would have more trouble than ever." 

Visser One leaned thoughtfully back on his hind legs, stalk eyes searching the faces of his fellow Vissers while his main eyes respectfully looked at the screen. With the Council's permission, I suggest we not spread this news about. If you can quietly dispose of Storytellers in your regions, fine; if not, try to have them reassigned to Yeerks who will be unaffected by their speeches.> 

A short pause. "The Council concurs, Visser One." 

You won't get rid of them that easily,> the human host mind said. We won't forget the stories.> 

Troubled, Riae searched the human's mind. Her host had never been assigned to a Storyteller's cagegroup, had heard only bits and pieces and summaries from those who had. Yet even the thought of the Storytellers brought a strange kind of determination. 

The human projected a grim mental smile. You could never understand it, Yeerk. I almost feel sorry for you, for that.> 

Riae carefully hid the sudden thought that overtook her, pushed it down into a far corner of her mind where it couldn't be seen, where she wouldn't have to think about it. But still it was there. 

She wanted_ to understand. _

  
  


A sudden jolt of anger pulled me from the memory and back to the present. How _dare_ they!> Riae's mind practically shrieked. I winced mentally at the sheer volume. Something must really be wrong for me to feel her emotions with such strength, especially when I'd been in the midst of a memory-trance. 

What is it?> I asked. I still couldn't see, disoriented from the transfer, but my sight was slowly clearing. 

Oh--Cassandra? I'm sorry, I didn't realize you'd hear me so loud.> Riae made an effort to calm herself. It didn't really help much. Those--those...> Not finding a strong enough word in either of our vocabularies, she settled for the distinctly unsatisfactory idiots! They've gone and authorized the use of a proton explosive!> 

A _what_?! Who? Why?> I felt shock color the thought. A proton bomb was quite capable of taking out half the city, and notoriously difficult to contain properly. Anyone who would use one in an inhabited area was insane or suicidal or both. 

I wish I knew. I can't find out who it was, they've covered their trail with mountains of paperwork. The only thing I can think of is that someone hasn't been reading up on their explosives, or else...> 

Or else someone wants you dead.> 

Let's not get paranoid. A proton bomb would be overkill. Though they'd stand a good chance of taking me out...I have to get in there and keep the team from using it.> 

Wait a minute! You're going in alone?> 

A sigh. The so-called team is already there, and they have a proton explosive with them. I have to. I'm waiting for a reassignment from Visser Six to get here, then I'm going in. We only have two hours. Maybe less.> 

I felt a chill. From Visser Six?> 

Yes, why--oh, surely you're not thinking that--you are. Come now, Cassandra, you know very well that's impossible.> 

I'm not so sure.> 

Riae shook our head very slightly. No, you wouldn't be, would you. Cassandra, I'm beginning to understand what you say about how the stories can bring hope. I'm trying to understand your poetry and your worldview. But this...they aren't real, Cassandra! They can't be! You made it all up!> 

I know.> I couldn't help believing that in some way, the stories I created were real. Still, believing that one of them was coming true here and now was going a little far even for me. 

I kept on thinking that until the com unit on the desk buzzed and the computer's voice said, "Ilie Six-Nine-Five is here." 

Riae and I stared at it. A coincidence,> Riae said faintly. Ilie isn't all that rare a name, surely.> 

Can't be.> I wasn't sure whether I meant it couldn't be a coincidence or that it couldn't be happening. I rather thought I meant both. 

The door opened and a human woman of about twenty entered. She had long brown hair and a nervous expression. And I felt as though I knew her somehow, the same almost-familiar way I'd felt with Palinit. 

"The Kandrona shine and strengthen you, Visser Thirty-Seven," she said. 

Riae tried to regain her composure. "And you, Ilie Six-Nine-Five," she said. "Did you have something to tell me? I was informed you wished to speak with me privately." 

The woman nodded. "I do. This is going to be hard for you to believe, but it's true...I...we've spent the last thirty years in a separate universe, one created with the Time Matrix by Karen, former host to Aftran Nine-Four-Two. There are a great many of us, and we--" 

Ilie stopped, eyes fixed incredulously on Riae. The visser had begun to laugh. "This," she choked out, "is way more than I was ready for when I said I wanted to be a Storyteller." 

Ilie shook her head, confused. 

Riae straightened, smiling ruefully. "I believe you, Ilie. Rena." 

"How--how did you know--?" 

"Meet Cassandra, my host. She's been telling a story about you. How she knew, or guessed, I don't even want to know." Riae sighed. "She doesn't know. Maybe this Karen of yours does. No matter. I'll help you." 

It felt rather like a story--the same detachment, the same objectivity. A story was never entirely objective, of course; always one side was preferred over another, one person followed through the action. But it didn't feel immediate, as though the Storyteller was involved in the action. 

Of course, to a certain extent, that was true. 

"According to the tracker on their equipment, they ought to be here," Riae said, staring around the deserted ruins. "But..." 

"But they aren't," Ilie completed. She shook her head. "Maybe the tracker got left behind?" 

"Unlikely, but possible," Riae sighed. "Or..." She blinked as a notion from the other presence in her mind, strangely detached at the moment, found its way through. "Or maybe they're under us." 

Ilie frowned for an instant, then nodded. "Of course. It makes sense. The only place the rebels would be safe from the patrols." 

"Down in the oldest Taxxon tunnels." Riae couldn't suppress a shudder. The tunnels did not have a good reputation. "The underside of society. Every government has one." 

"And if they set off a proton bomb down there, under the city..." 

"They wouldn't, surely." 

"We can hope so." Ilie looked downward doubtfully. "I wouldn't trust it. Better to make sure. How do we get to them?" 

"There used to be an entrance over that way, but it may have collapsed. The only maps of the place are decades old...I never thought I'd be going down there." Again a wave of shameful fear overcame Riae. 

"What's down there that's so bad?" 

Riae looked at her with faint surprise. "You haven't heard? No, of course not. I forget where you've been...Stay on Earth long enough and you hear these things. Rumors. Not stories like the Storytellers of the hosts make up, but things that happen, and nobody wants to believe...the Taxxons that grow to giant sizes on the dead, the oatmeal-affected Controllers, the escapees that live for years, maybe, down there in the darkness, forming gangs and killing one another for the privilege of a garbage dump or a polluted stream. I wish I could shrug it off as a lie, but..." She slowly shook her head. "I'm a Visser. I'm among those covering it all up." 

The older human's eyes were wide. "We didn't know things had gotten so bad," she murmured softly. "I--Rena," she identified herself quickly, "I stayed in the tunnels for a while back before I found the Village...there were a few dangers, but nothing like that. It was the main hideaway for rebels and the last few members of the Peace Movement...they weren't bad, kept most of the Taxxons away and the addicts fed..." 

"There was a sweep of the tunnels a few decades ago. At least they called it a sweep. They picked up most of the Taxxons and all the rebels, got rid of the oatmeal-addicted Yeerks...it only got worse, without the structure of the organized rebellion." 

Ilie/Rena shook their head in dismay. 

Riae began to walk toward the place she thought the entrance to be. "It was the only possible choice," she added. "They were a threat to the Yeerk Empire. Better the chaos than a full-scale rebellion." But her voice was unconvinced, and the others knew it. 

There was a gaping hole leading into the underground tunnels. An old staircase had obviously collapsed long ago, but it would still be possible to clamber down the slope of rubble and into the darkness below. The two, or four, stared down into it for a long moment, then cautiously began to descend. 

It was not quite pitch black in the tunnel. A sickly, pale greenish light came from the phosphorescent fungi on the walls, and rarely, one of the lights neglected for decades would flicker briefly back into dim life before dying out again. Riae jumped at every sound, Cassandra's vivid imagination for once a liability. 

"Which way do we go?" Ilie whispered. The words seemed to fall dead in the tunnel, the damp walls absorbing rather than echoing them back. 

"I--I'm not sure," Riae admitted. She glanced around uncertainly. "I suppose we'll just have to aim for the locator and hope the tunnels lead through." 

Ilie bit her lip and nodded reluctantly. "Guess so." 

The tunnels twisted and split and came together again until the pair had become almost entirely lost, choosing passages at random. Paying more attention now to the tiny glowing screen of the locator than to the surroundings, perhaps it was unsurprising that the assault, when it came, caught them utterly unprepared. 

Twenty or twenty-five ragged beings of different races poured from a side tunnel in an absolute silence that was almost more frightening than the speed of their attack. Riae groped frantically for her small Dracon beam, but it seemed stuck in her pocket. Terrified, she wished that Cassandra had been a stronger host body. 

Ilie had fallen into a defensive crouch. "Wait!" she called, not a yell, but loud enough to be heard. "We came to help you!" 

The rush didn't slow, but Riae thought she saw one human woman signaling to the rest. In an instant they were surrounded. The Dracon beam remained just out of her grip, and Riae berated herself for not having it out and ready. She'd make a poor rebel, ignoring everything around her! 

And then a deft hand neatly removed the Dracon from its place. "A Dracon beam," the girl behind her reported. "Nice quality, brand new. Yeerks, all right." Her voice held a deep contempt. 

The apparent leader nodded. "Came to help, did you? Talk fast," she ordered coldly. 

Riae saw Ilie--or was it Rena?--take a deep breath to steady herself. "We're with the resistance. We heard about what was going on here and Karen sent us to help out." 

A man snorted in disbelief. "Karen? You're insane, whatever else you may be. Karen's a myth, a story." 

"Can you afford to turn down our help?" interjected Riae desperately. "They have a proton bomb! That'll collapse the whole tunnel system! How are you going to disarm it without us?" 

She'd struck a point. The leader hesitated for a long moment, and finally nodded. "You're right. They'll already have set it; they were doing that when we got away from the battle. They didn't bother to chase us." A bitter expression crossed her face. "Astonishing they felt we were important enough to come down for." 

"What do we do?" asked a Hork-Bajir haltingly. Riae repressed a horrified look; half his blades were no more than stubs, cut or ripped off. 

"We trust them--for now." The human aimed a look at the two which warned eloquently of their fate if they betrayed that trust. "We'll circle back around, take the lower entrance to the chamber. Midori, stay with the Yeerks. Hold onto the Dracon." 

"Right," the girl behind Riae agreed. "I'll keep an eye on them." 

The entire group began to move, keeping Ilie, Riae, and their guard in the center. There was very little conversation, only a couple of near-inaudible whispers between the leader and several others. 

"I'll let you keep your Dracon for now," Midori said to Ilie in the same low tones, "since you didn't try to draw it on us. You may need it." 

Riae turned to get a good look at the girl. She could not have been much older than Cassandra. Her matted hair might have been blond had it not been caked with filth, and her eyes were a brilliant green-blue. "Your name is Midori?" Riae asked. 

"Not so loud! Yes, I'm Midori." 

"You seem very young to be a member of one of the gangs," observed Ilie, her voice matching the girl's in its pitch. "Are you an escapee?" 

"Not exactly. I've lived down here all my life. My mother had escaped, but she's dead now." There was a sort of weary resignation to the statement. "Caught in a crossfire. Besides, this isn't a gang, according to Faizah," and a tilt of the head indicated the leader, "it's a resistance group. I'll admit it's far better than any other gang." 

"How did you join?" 

Midori shot Ilie an amused look. "I was a loner. They found me. I joined. And I've proven myself enough now to be one of the most valuable members." 

"What do you do?" 

"I'm a thief," she said without embarrassment. "The best there is. Most all our weapons are my handiwork." 

Riae remembered the nimble hand which now held her Dracon beam and privately admitted that Midori might well be an excellent thief, though she saw nothing to be proud of in it. 

Do you not?> came a soft question from Cassandra. The young Storyteller was waking from her half-sleep now, accepting the unbelievable situation. It's a worthwhile skill, down here. And apparently one that not many master.> 

And already she seemed to understand their captors and temporary allies better than Riae. The Yeerk sighed mentally, settling back into the parts of the human's mind that controlled memories. Unfair. I'm supposed to be the one in charge here, and you're the one who's pointing out everything to me.> 

A silvery mental giggle. You're funny. I never really noticed that before.> 

Riae missed a step in surprise. What did you say?> 

You're funny. I never really noticed that before,> Cassandra repeated patiently. 

Riae started to shake her head, caught herself in time to spare questions from her companions. What are you talking about? Why'd you sleep for so long?> 

I'm not sure,> Cassandra said thoughtfully. I...had to think. To come to some conclusions.> 

And did you find your conclusions?> Riae asked, curious in spite of herself. Cassandra felt too cheerful, too unconcerned, especially considering the situation they were headed into. 

Can't you see?> 

Riae examined her host's recent memories more closely. Except...there weren't any. They left off when Cassandra had fallen asleep and picked up only a few moments ago. There was nothing to explain the sudden change in attitude. No,> she admitted reluctantly. Have you found some way to hide your thoughts from me?> 

Cassandra laughed again. Why should you be bothered if I had? But no. I haven't. Actually I don't know why I'm feeling this way. I just know everything's going to be all right.> 

The confidently optimistic sense of the human's mind baffled Riae entirely. Let's hope so,> she said, and left it at that. 

[Home][2] || [Back to Archives][3]

   [1]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	6. The Defeated, Chapter Six

The Defeated, Part Six _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Six   
translated by [DawningStar][1]

Cassandra briefly went over the last few minutes' occurrences, curiosity rising as she looked at Midori through eyes Riae controlled. Why is it so important to be quiet?> she wondered, and Riae repeated the question. 

The girl looked oddly at Riae, but replied, "We can't hear too much down here, but the Taxxons can. Something about the fungi; they absorb sound in the human range, but not above, where Taxxons can hear. Talk too loud, and you're attacked..." A twisted smile indicated memories of such attacks. "Blood, of course, attracts them even faster. Never enough food down here." 

Whether it was Riae or Cassandra who shuddered, neither could be sure. 

Midori observed it with amusement. "Tell me," she said suddenly, "are you a member of the resistance too? She is, I can tell, but you I'm not so sure about." 

A surge of apprehension and uncertainty went through the shared mind unblocked. "I...wasn't," she admitted. "Ilie/Rena contacted me only a short time ago. My host...she and I agreed to help them." 

It was Cassandra who caught and correctly interpreted the surge of interest in Midori's eyes. "You spoke of your host," the human said slowly, "and the other's. Do hosts have a part in the resistance?" 

"I can't speak for the Yeerk Peace Movement or other branches of the resistance. But Ilie, the Yeerk, and Rena, the human, are more symbiotes than anything else. Their group managed to find a way to alter them both." Riae suddenly realized that she had no idea whether Cassandra's story was in fact what had happened, and shook her head. "I think," she added belatedly. "They haven't had time to tell me much yet." 

"And your host?" 

"Cassandra." From within, she could feel Riae's bewilderment, bordering almost on fear. "She is...an odd one. I don't know how much of the host culture you've heard, but Cassandra is what they call a Storyteller." 

Midori nodded, to Riae's surprise. "We have a few of those. Faizah was a Storyteller, once, and sentenced to death for it. She'll be interested in meeting your Cassandra, if we survive." 

It was said in an unemotional voice, just a statement of fact; every day, every hour was a gamble in which the odds were against survival. Perhaps that was what chilled Riae so. 

Ilie/Rena had drawn a few steps ahead, eyes on the twisting tunnels. Now she fell back, beside Midori. "When we get there, Riae should head for the bomb as soon as it's safe. I'll cover her. Midori, can you help me?" 

The thief gave a short nod. "I'm not a bad shot, though I've rarely gotten my hands on one of these." She hefted the Dracon. "We all practice with stones and the poisons." 

That gave Riae a turn, but there was no time to ask questions now; artificial light was already becoming visible ahead. Midori shook her head. "Idiots," she muttered in a voice even softer than that she had been using. "The place'll glow for days." 

With several small motions, Faizah directed the group into a split formation, the newcomers at the center and held slightly back. At a single nod, they rushed forward into an utterly silent attack. 

Almost, Riae held back. Almost. Cassandra sensed the hesitation and with a pointed Are you part of this, or not?> jolted the Visser into action. 

Already stones coated in some liquid substance were scattered over the floor, and several Controllers lay unconscious or dead near the large device in the center of the cavern. But many more beings from the small resistance group were sprawled around the edges, tokens of an earlier battle. 

The Controllers reacted quickly, pulling out their Dracons and beginning to fire. The sickening scent of scorched flesh spread through the cave with the high-pitched screams of weapons and the moans of the injured. Two Hork-Bajir-Controllers and one Andalite-Controller began to move forward, using blades and tail to get rid of the interfering beings, but Midori and Ilie took careful aim and began to fire on the Controllers. 

The Andalite-Controller, holding her own Dracon, advanced on them in an erratic pattern that made it hard to pick her off. A bright red bolt cut down Midori, and Riae felt a pang of regret she hadn't expected for the young thief. 

But now the way was clear to the device, and she dashed to it, kneeling to access the programming. Fifteen minutes, and counting, the little screen informed her. 

"Override. Authorization Visser Thirty-Seven, code illitik-paril-nihlim-reven," she ordered quickly and quietly, "Riae Four-Two-Nine, of the Iriem Palr Pool." 

The screen flickered, cleared to the default readout. "Countdown canceled," the computer voice said. 

"Deactivate all circuitry. Do not reactivate without my order." 

"Acknowledged." 

Might as well make it as safe as she could. Riae opened the little hatch above the screen and carefully pulled the wire that would have carried the signal to detonate. 

Riae sighed, and leaned back, relieved. Cassandra gave a mental smile of congratulation. 

And then the business end of a Dracon beam made its presence known at her temple. I don't know how you managed that,> the Andalite-Controller said, but you won't live to do it again.> 

Riae swallowed hard. In a split-second, Cassandra conveyed an entire range of emotions. She was frightened, naturally, a bit wistful that she would not see how things turned out, but over all she was proud of Riae. 

_Proud._

No regrets,> Riae said softly to the host who had become a friend, and waited for the blast. 

It didn't come for a long second. Then the Controller said in a rather different tone, Cassandra?> 

Together they almost started to turn, startled by the tone and the question, but the Dracon beam's cold metal quickly reminded them of the situation. 

A quick review of Cassandra's memories revealed the most likely possibility. "Tariss Two-Three-Six of the Niam Tras pool, I am Visser Thirty-Seven, and you are in violation of regulations by attacking me." 

You are a traitor to the Yeerk Empire,> Tariss countered, and I would be fully within regulations to shoot you.> 

"There is no evidence of that. I came to disarm an unauthorized proton explosive. How does that make me a traitor?" 

You allied yourself with the resistance group.> 

"That was necessary. There was no other way to find you, down here." 

And then a sizzling red bolt of energy struck Tariss in the back, and she collapsed. Similar bolts struck the few other Controllers still standing; almost all of the resistance group was downed already. 

Midori struggled upright and walked unsteadily toward Riae, the weapon in her hand still warm. She scooped up Tariss's Dracon. "Huh," she said. "Set to stun. I noticed yours and Ilie's were the same way. What is this, has the Empire gone all sympathetic all of a sudden?" 

"Not likely," Riae muttered. "Personal preference. Higher-ranked Yeerks can set their Dracons as they like. Ilie...well, she isn't really a part of the Empire." Still breathing a little fast, she stood. "What happened?" 

"I took a shot from her Dracon, and I just recovered in time..." Midori looked around. "Not many left. If you disabled that bomb, we'd better get away before the Taxxons show up." 

Riae turned, searching for Ilie/Rena. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the symbiote pair lying on the ground, blood seeping from their leg. "We have to help Ilie...and the others," she added, a glance showing the numbers of wounded and stunned. 

"She's dead," Midori said. "Bleeding like that." 

An anxious glance toward the adult. "No, she's still breathing, we can save her...I need a bandage or something--" 

"She's dead," Midori repeated forcefully. "Most of these are. You bleed, you die. Some of the stunned may wake up in time, but we have to get out _now_. The Taxxons will be here within a few minutes, with all the sound--and the blood." 

Riae looked disbelievingly at Midori. "You just want me to _leave_ her here? She's _not _dead yet, and we can save her! And the others!" 

Midori stared coldly back. "You're new here. You haven't seen...there's no way we can hold them off, and if we try to take her with us, they'll follow the blood. Bandages don't work. Taxxons follow the scent." There was a short pause, then she added, "Stay if you want, Visser. I'm alive, and I prefer to stay that way." 

Already headed toward Ilie, Riae winced. "You heard that." 

"Lifetime of whispers'll sharpen your ears. So was any of it true? Or were you just using us?" 

There was only the slightest edge of anger to the thief's voice. "It's all true," Riae said, beginning to rip cloth from the hem of her long over-tunic. "Ilie is a member of a major resistance group. She contacted me, and I agreed to help. Then we found out about the explosive and came to disarm it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you my rank. I thought you would be less likely to trust us, if you knew." 

"You may have been right." 

Riae bent and hurriedly began to wrap the injury. It didn't look good; a glancing blow from a Hork-Bajir blade had cut nearly to the bone, and it might never heal correctly. Especially not without proper care, she thought. 

A glance upward as she tried to get the bleeding stopped showed that Midori hadn't left; instead, she knelt beside Faizah, who had been stunned by Tariss's Dracon. "Thought you were going," Riae said. 

"I was. I just...with the Dracons, if we get enough people, maybe we can beat them after all." Midori shook her head. 

As the leader of the group began to wake up, Midori pushed a Dracon into her hand with a few short words of explanation and moved on to the next stunned victim. Still worried about the symbiote pair but realizing there was nothing more to do, Riae as well began tending to other people. 

"What about your Controller friend?" Midori called, no longer bothering to be quiet. "She's starting to come to." 

She isn't my friend,> Riae muttered silently to Cassandra, but what do you think?> 

She's my friend,> the human said, or at least something like a friend. I won't say we can trust her, but...I don't think we should kill her, either.> 

No. All right, then.> "Tie her up, if you would, especially her tail. If we manage to hold back the Taxxons, I want to talk with her. She was my host's former Yeerk," Riae added in explanation. 

Midori bent to do so--then spun, her face fearful. "They're coming!" she hissed. 

Cassandra could hear nothing, but Midori had already demonstrated her accurate hearing. "Anyone with Dracons, aim at the entrances, fire as soon as you see them. Everyone else keep back, keep taking care of the wounded if you can," Riae ordered quickly. Everyone conscious nodded nervously; even a few of the Controllers were bandaging and splinting, though their Dracons were in the hands of the ground-dwellers. 

Before long even Cassandra and Riae could hear the scuttling of many legs, the hisses that were Taxxon language, and the occasional shriek as some Taxxon fell afoul of his fellows. Cassandra retreated behind Riae, there if she was needed but not wanting to be a distraction. 

Then the Taxxons were upon them, an unthinking rush of centipedes grown to giant proportions. Faizah's group fired with cold accuracy, scorching bolts tearing through the massed beings, and those without Dracon beams hurled sharp rocks with nearly equal effect, as the wounded Taxxons were torn apart by the instinctive bloodthirst. 

But no matter how many fell on one another or were cut down by the Dracons, more piled in. They were coming from both entrances now, and ground-dwellers and Controllers alike were driven back slowly. 

Riae cast an anxious glance back between shots. The wounded were gathered in the center of the cave, though some few were lost in the carnage. Most were at least conscious now, but many wouldn't be able to make any sort of a run for escape. And the Taxxons just kept coming. 

"Dracons concentrate on the back entrance!" a strong, confident voice yelled--Faizah. Easy to see how she'd become leader. "Those who can, carry the wounded! We're making for the surface!" 

There was no protest from either side; anyone strong enough picked up one of those still unconscious. Riae fell back three measured steps to find Ilie/Rena groggily trying to struggle upright, and offered the hand not holding the Dracon. Midori appeared on the symbiote pair's other side, supporting and protecting. With a brief glance around, Riae caught sight of an Andalite-Controller being carried by a Hork-Bajir. 

Agonizingly slowly, the group cut its way through the Taxxons, drawing closer together as they went through the tunnel. Were the numbers thinning? Riae barely dared to hope. Cassandra insisted that they were almost out. 

And then the line before them broke and a welcome breath of fresh air blew over them, the Taxxons turning from the too-well-defended group and to the dead below. Cassandra wept silently in the back of the shared mind, sorrowing both for the dead rebels, hosts, and Yeerks, and for the Taxxons she had been obliged to kill. 

Necessity,> Riae said firmly. I didn't like it either, but...you know what their instincts are like. We had no choice.> 

I know,> Cassandra whispered. That doesn't make it easier.> 

[Home][2] || [Back to Archives][3]

   [1]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	7. The Defeated, Chapter Seven

The Defeated, Part Seven _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Seven   
translated by [DawningStar][1]

"Nih Tagut had to knock her out again on the way up," the Hork-Bajir reported, looking down at Tariss. "Nih Tagut hopes she isn't hurt, if she is a friend of yours." 

"To be quite honest I'm not sure whether she is or isn't," Riae replied. "She was assigned to my host before me...they were closer than most. Cassandra doesn't want her killed." 

"I see," Faizah said, frowning at the unconscious Andalite-Controller. "Is she a high-ranking Yeerk?" 

Riae shrugged. "Fairly high--in the two hundreds. And likely to get higher, if she'd succeeded. She's rather ambitious. She was awfully embarrassed when she realized she was getting fond of Cassandra." 

The rebel leader smiled faintly. "I can imagine." 

"She's lucky she did, though," Ilie put in. The adult was pale and biting her lip in pain, but with her leg tightly bound to stop the bleeding she could function from the ground. 

"Indeed she is. Without you and Cassandra, Riae, very few of us would have survived the Taxxons--perhaps none. Your friend Tariss included." Glancing toward Midori, Faizah added, "Our resident thief tells me it was your doing she stayed to help. Congratulations on getting through to her. It's quite the accomplishment. I'm a relative newcomer to the tunnels and their mentality, but Midori's lived down there all her life." 

Riae shivered at the thought. "It must be horrible," she voiced involuntarily, then hoped Faizah wouldn't take offense. 

"It is," the leader agreed, not upset in the slightest by the remark. "It is. But what choice do we have? We're killed on sight by any Controllers, and there's no way for us to contact the main rebellion. Even if they wanted our help." Faizah looked ruefully around at her gang, as ragged and underfed as she was herself. 

Thinking guiltily of her own ample daily allowance, Cassandra sighed mentally. Riae echoed the thought with a nod. 

"But now you do have a choice," Ilie/Rena said earnestly. "We can help you get in contact with the Villagers. They're going to bring together the different resistance movements and get Earth free again." 

Faizah smiled mirthlessly. "The Villagers, is it? I used to tell stories about that myself. It's a myth." 

"We've lived there for years ourselves, my host Rena and I. How else could I have survived, without Kandrona rays?" 

The gang leader hesitated, then said abruptly, "We'll have time for this later. Tariss is waking up." 

They looked down at the Andalite-Controller, who was twitching in the last stages of unconsciousness. The Hork-Bajir ground-dweller prudently took a firm hold of her tail-blade, bracing himself against any escape attempts. 

One stalk eye opened slowly, then the other. The main eyes quickly followed. What's happened?> Tariss asked rather groggily. 

"Consider yourself and your team prisoners of the resistance," Faizah advised her. "I wouldn't try to escape if I were you. We all have Dracon beams now, thanks to you." 

Tariss looked rather accusingly at Riae, whose expression turned faintly guilty. "I never actually said I _hadn't_ joined the resistance," she pointed out. "Just that you had no proof that I had." 

The Andalite-Controller snorted. Cassandra's been having an effect on you, I see. You're twisting words as bad as she ever did.> 

"_Quite_ an effect," Riae admitted ruefully. "It's mostly her doing I'm involved in all this." 

Now there's a story I'd like to hear.> Tariss managed an Andalite smile, if a rather weak one. 

I want to talk with her,> Cassandra said suddenly, startling Riae enough that some of it must have shown on her face. I can bring her around. You know she'd be a great help to us.> 

She would be, Riae admitted, but even Cassandra's optimistically-tinged memories gave her little hope of that. Still...All right. You take control.> Gingerly, she released her hold on the human's movement, remaining just barely in contact with her thoughts. 

"Tariss?" Cassandra said hopefully. "It's Cassandra...I missed you." 

Tariss snorted. Only you would say that, Storyteller.> 

"Only you could make that sound like an insult," Cassandra retorted, but her eyes were dancing. "What d'you think you were doing down there? If you'd set that thing off, it could've collapsed half the city!" 

Orders are orders,> Tariss sighed, and you know what happens to those who disobey them. We were assured it was properly set.> 

"Well, sometimes you have to find a way around orders!" snapped Cassandra. "There are things more important than your career in that rotting hulk you call an empire!" She felt Riae wince slightly at that description, but continued determinedly, "You always used to pretend you hated my stories, but I knew better. Now we'll see who you really are: a hero, or just some minor annoying villain." 

Tariss looked utterly baffled at the speech. Faizah was grinning widely. Ilie/Rena glanced from Cassandra to Tariss, and managed a small smile. Within Cassandra's head, Riae felt almost as confused as Tariss. What are you doing?> she queried. 

Later,> Cassandra promised silently. 

Are you...asking me to help you?> Tariss asked uncertainly, with a glance at Faizah. You and the ground-dwellers aren't going to kill me? I've heard enough about them to know how much they hate Yeerks...not that they don't have reason.> 

"I'm gang-leader," Faizah said firmly, "and I say you're more valuable alive than dead. So long as you don't cause trouble." 

Tariss's eye stalks turned toward her team, just out of earshot and covered by a good dozen Dracons. Several were still unconscious; the rest looked rather dazed, quietly sitting in the shadows of an ancient apartment complex. And the rest?> 

"Safe as long as they don't try to escape," Faizah assured. "Right, Nih Tagut?" 

The Hork-Bajir looked faintly uncomfortable with the idea, but he nodded. "Since you became gang leader we do better than anyone else. What you say goes." 

Tariss let out a long breath, looking steadily at Cassandra. I can't promise anything,> she said finally. I...Visser Thirty-Seven, this sounds like Cassandra but we both know how well a host can be impersonated. Will you let me speak with Cassandra--alone?> 

I don't like this,> Riae said nervously. I'll be helpless, outside...anything could happen...> 

You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you. Please, Riae?> Cassandra pleaded. It won't be for long.> 

"All right," Riae said aloud, and reluctantly released Cassandra entirely, emerging into the girl's ready hand. 

As she gently cradled Riae, the Storyteller noted Faizah's intrigued expression. The gang leader couldn't have seen many Yeerks who'd willingly release their host, even temporarily--or many hosts who would protect the Yeerk. It might even make her more willing to trust them. 

"It really is me," she told Tariss. "I know you wanted to be loyal to the empire and all, but--look, Tariss, it doesn't deserve your loyalty any more. This is your chance to change things for the better. Maybe we could manage without you, maybe not, but I know I'd be far happier if you were on the right side." 

Tariss stared at the ground for a long moment. All right,> she said at last. All right. I trust you, Cassandra. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. And you're right about the empire, you always have been, even if I wouldn't admit it.> 

Cassandra blinked in faint surprise. She hadn't been expecting that last. "Thank you," she told her former Yeerk softly. 

Well, don't get all emotional about it,> Tariss growled. And you'd better get that visser of yours back in your head before she dehydrates.> 

Hurriedly, Cassandra raised Riae to her ear. The Yeerk wasted no time in returning, fast slipping into the ear canal with the brief pain of infestation. What happened?> she wanted to know as soon as she'd made connection. 

She agreed. She'll help.> Riae could have taken the memories directly, of course, but Cassandra appreciated that she'd asked first. 

It took only a moment for the pair to re-establish their former shared control. Looking up, Cassandra found Faizah's gaze still on them. "I suppose you're in charge," the gang leader said with a half-smile. "What do we do now?" 

Cassandra froze for an instant. The adult couldn't have meant _her_. She was a Storyteller, she didn't lead...but Faizah had meant Riae, no doubt. Well?> she inquired. 

Oh, no, you don't,> the Yeerk refused, more than a hint of amusement to her tone. You got me into this, you aren't shoving everything off onto me now. And what do you mean you don't lead? You're a worse taskmaster than any Visser.> Riae paused. Besides,> she added more soberly, I haven't any idea of what to do.> 

Cassandra swallowed, trying hard to come up with something that would sound like she knew what she was doing. Her creative mind, for once, betrayed her. "Um," she got out, and looked helplessly at Ilie/Rena. The symbiote pair only chuckled softly. 

Go on,> Tariss said, not unkindly. You're the only one around here with any chance of coming up with a workable plan. Besides, it's your fault we're all in this mess anyway.> 

Her former Yeerk's near-repetition of Riae's comment made Cassandra grin, and snapped her out of her paralysis. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she found options and possibilities there as though this were itself a story she was telling. The beginnings of a plan fell almost effortlessly into place. Are you doing that?> she asked Riae suspiciously. 

Doing what?> Riae responded, surprised enough that Cassandra believed her. The Yeerk was courteously holding back from Cassandra's deeper thoughts, touching only the surface emotions and speech. 

Never mind.> Cassandra took a deep breath and looked to Tariss. "Who of your team would help us?" she queried. 

The Andalite-Controller looked faintly startled, but replied, Maybe Fhren Four-One-Six and Kyli Three-Nine-Five.> She indicated two human-Controllers, awake and sitting together slightly to one side of the main group. They're a little uncertain, they've had pretty good relationships with their hosts, I think. The rest...Rlim Five-Nine-Two may well be a plant from someone higher up, but mostly they're your normal Yeerks: ambitious and occasionally treacherous.> 

Cassandra nodded. "Ilie, can you get in touch with Karen and the others?" 

"Yes, I think so," Ilie said a little uncertainly, adding quickly, "Maybe not Karen herself, she's been awfully busy..." 

"That'll do." Feeling just a bit faint, Cassandra turned to Faizah for approval and half-suggested, "We can probably at least get the Yeerks' cooperation if we offer them Kandrona rays. If we asked them to leave their hosts or help us out, and in return they'd be fed..." 

Faizah looked at her sharply. "You have access to a Kandrona?" 

I won't have you lying to them to get their help,> Tariss contributed even more severely. 

Cassandra suppressed a smile at that. More evidence that Tariss, whatever she pretended, really did care about her subordinates. "I think I do," she replied, glancing at Ilie/Rena. The pair nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do. If they've fed not too long ago, anyway." 

Tariss blew out a sigh. They and I fed before we left, early today. We have two and a half days maximum.> 

I have about the same,> Riae added silently. I was trying not to remember about that...but it's a good idea. It might even work.> 

It made Cassandra uneasy to feel Riae's fears and hesitations in addition to her own. A Yeerk was supposed to be decisive, quick to follow or give orders, and never, _ever_ supposed to turn to a host. Cassandra almost found herself missing the lack of responsibility on her part. 

She wasn't used to being in control even of herself, and now everyone seemed to expect her to figure out some plan to get them all out of danger. All her life Controlled, and now in a complete reversal, the Controller...Cassandra choked back a nervous giggle. 

Don't you dare get hysterical,> ordered Riae. You know the most about the situation, that's all. Get us to your Karen or her group, and your part's done. You're a Storyteller. Well, Faizah was a Storyteller, and she's done well enough at leading. Look at it as a story.> 

But it _does_ look like a story,> Cassandra told her friend, not expecting or getting comprehension, and that's what scares me.> 

Faizah was considering the idea. "That might work," she decided finally, "but what then?" 

"With the Yeerks or their hosts to help us through checkpoints, we can make it to Karen's resistance group, once Ilie contacts them," Cassandra said more confidently. "And then we help them bring down the Yeerk Empire." 

The gang leader began to grin. Cassandra suddenly had a strong suspicion that this had been a test of some kind. "All right," Faizah said, "let's get to it, then." 

The captured Yeerks were mostly awake by now, huddled and talking in whispers about what might be done with them. The two Tariss had pointed out looked up sharply as Cassandra, Tariss, and Faizah approached them. The rest shrank back a little, staring suspiciously at Faizah and with bewilderment at their superior. 

"What's going on, Tariss?" asked Kyli Three-Nine-Five. Her host was a human female, unusually dark-skinned--most of the old genetic differences between humans had vanished through the years of Yeerk occupation, but every once in a while one would show up again. 

Our captors have generously offered to provide us with Kandrona rays, if we cooperate with them,> Tariss told Kyli and Fhren, a hint of irony in her voice. 

She makes it sound like we'd kill them if they didn't cooperate,> Cassandra protested privately to Riae, and we need their help if any of us are going to survive at all.> 

Riae's reply held a silent laugh. You should know the Yeerk mentality better than that by now. They have to think we're in a stronger position than we really are.> 

Well, I don't like it,> Cassandra said defiantly. We should be able to tell them the truth. They should _want_ to help us out.> 

You just keep working to make it that way,> Riae told her tolerantly. Idealist.> 

Someone has to be around here. _You_ sure do a lousy job.> 

Riae made a point of ignoring her, and Cassandra sent the Yeerk a mental grin. You do understand, though, Riae,> she added with a certainty she knew would startle her friend. You understand more every day.> 

We've been offered generous terms, and I see no choice but to accept,> Tariss was telling Fhren, her tone hard. Cassandra had missed the Controller's reaction but it had to have been unusual--most Yeerks would never flinch at betraying whoever they were currently working for, especially if it meant their lives would be spared. 

"But Tariss--" Kyli lowered her voice, and Cassandra could hear only a murmur--though she rather suspected Faizah caught the whole. 

I'm fully aware of that,> Tariss replied, still directing her thought-speak to Cassandra as well as the two Controllers. But it will make little difference if we die of Kandrona starvation before we're ever sentenced.> 

From that, Cassandra could easily take a guess at the content of the whispered phrase. She swallowed, hoping Tariss would never have such cause to regret their friendship. 

"Then we'll have no choice but to cast in with the rebels," muttered Fhren. The human-Controller ran a hand through his pale hair, shifted uneasily. "I never thought...What of the others, Tariss?" 

They'll be safe, and fed. They can denounce us to the Vissers, if it comes to that.> Tariss paused, and added softly, You could join them. I can't order you anymore, now. I suppose I'm truly a rebel, now.> 

Cassandra could see Kyli swallow hard, but she lifted her chin firmly. "You know my thoughts on the matter, Tariss. Even if the rebels are--as we've heard--I'm with you." 

Fhren nodded. "Me too," he declared, less eloquent perhaps but with just as much feeling for all its brevity. 

_What could Tariss have done, to inspire such loyalty in a world where loyalty is fast becoming a death warrant?_ Cassandra wondered, feeling a knot of something like pride in her throat. But then,> she whispered to Riae, feeling the Yeerk's inquiring touch, that would be why they were assigned a suicide mission.> 

Very likely. We should reassure those two. Sounds like they've heard too many rumors about the ground-dwellers.> 

Cassandra agreed silently and stepped forward, as Tariss moved on to the rest of the group. "I'm Cassandra," she said, with a smile that she hoped looked comforting. 

From their expressions, she hadn't succeeded very well. Fhren eyed her as he might a barely controlled Taxxon, and Kyli was clearly terrified for all she tried to seem calm. "Are you in charge?" the dark-skinned Controller asked, a little nervously. 

"Me?" Cassandra said in surprise, then rethought and added, "Sort of, I suppose. Not really. I mean, sometimes they listen to me." 

Oh, that really cleared things up,> said Riae dryly from the back of her mind. The Yeerk sounded almost amused. And there wasn't a hint from her as to what might work better. 

Feeling faintly irritated, Cassandra forced her attention back to the Controllers in front of her. "What I meant to say," she clarified coolly, "was that I have some knowledge of the rebels. I'm a Storyteller." 

Kyli's eyes widened; Fhren's narrowed. "Storytellers," he spat. "Liars trying to stir up treason, the lot of them. I suppose it's you who convinced Tariss to join up. Well, I'm only going along for her sake, and if you think you can get me to fight my own people, you can just go jump out an airlock and take your stories with you." 

Cassandra drew herself up sternly. It was hardly a surprise to find that the Yeerk thought of Storytellers that way; Tariss had said something like it in the beginning. Still, she didn't intend to let him keep on thinking it. 

But before Cassandra could speak, she felt a surge of hot anger from Riae, and next moment the Yeerk had taken control. "I," she declared, "am Riae Four-Two-Nine of the Iriem Palr Pool and Visser Thirty-Seven of the Yeerk Empire, currently stationed on Earth. And I too am a Storyteller." 

The two Controllers stared for a long, uncomfortable minute. "No wonder--" Kyli began, and hastily choked it off before correcting herself, "I didn't think Yeerks could be Storytellers." 

"Well, I'm not, really, not yet," Riae replied, her anger subsiding into faint embarrassment. "Cassandra is teaching me. But she says I can do it, eventually." 

"You have a voluntary host?" Kyli asked, eyes brightening. "I've read of those! Is it really even easier than Controlling a host who's given up?" 

"We have no time for this," Fhren broke in. "If we're going somewhere, Riae or Cassandra or whoever you are, let's just go." 

Cassandra took control back from Riae. "It will be some time before we figure out exactly what to do," she said. "Meanwhile, tell me everything you can about the security on the transport tubes and the roads. We need to go to Issara Kem." 

Kyli shook her head, looking puzzled. "Issara Kem? Why? Nothing's _there_. No spaceport, no major buildings, nothing." 

Why? Because that was where Cassandra had imagined a connection to the Chee's underground lair in a story she'd made up what seemed like such a long time ago. "I think we can reach safety from there," she replied, not going into details for fear the Yeerks would declare her insane and stop listening to her entirely. 

"All right," Kyli acquiesced, with a shrug. "If you say so. We've thrown our lot in with you now, and we'll do our best to make sure we all stay alive,"--this with a glance at Tariss that strongly suggested who their first priority would be. She began her explanation, detailing the precautions on the transports for low-ranked Yeerks. There weren't many. Perhaps they could get through. 

Then Kyli hesitated, drew a deep breath, and slowly added, "There's something else." 

Fhren started to protest, but Kyli waved him off with a fierce look. "I wasn't going to say this," she admitted, "but...Visser...Riae, you're to be arrested under suspicion of treason. There's a warrant out. You're to be taken to trial as soon as you're found." 

Riae stared at the Controller. Cassandra could feel her fear, and the knowledge that such a thing was quite possible. At last the Yeerk said flatly, "You're lying." 

"I'm not. I wish I were." 

"But Tariss--" 

"Tariss doesn't know," Fhren cut in. "It was a high security broadcast, released only a few minutes ago. I assume when they found out there'd been no proton explosion." 

"Then how do you two know about it?" Riae demanded suspiciously. 

Kyli winced, her face a mask of guilt. Reluctantly she revealed the tiny device she'd had clutched in one hand, a highly expensive--and highly illegal--wavetapper. "I've had it for years," she muttered. "Tariss doesn't know. I'd never use it to hurt her, ever!" 

"I believe you," Cassandra assured, taking over from the stunned Riae. "This does change things. I'll have to speak with the others. Thank you for telling us." She managed a warm smile at the pair. "Perhaps you'd better come, too." 

The thought in Riae's mind matched her own: _Now_ what are we going to do? 

[Home][2] || [Back to Archives][3]

   [1]: mailto:dawn@ccaonline.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dreamwater.net/dawningstar/Animorphsarchives.html



	8. The Defeated, Chapter Eight

The Defeated, Part Eight _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Eight   
translated by DawningStar

"The rest of us can maybe get there all right," Tariss said gravely, "but if you're recognized...anyone traveling with you will be suspect, too." 

"Well, not her," Midori corrected, "Cassandra..." 

The same idea occurred to Controller and host at the same time, and Riae clamped down hard on Cassandra's voice box. I won't let you do that!> the Yeerk hissed. Absolutely not!> 

And what else is there to do?> demanded Cassandra. I won't let you go turn yourself in, certainly. You know you're far more valuable to the resistance than I would be.> 

But you know everything about it from your story! If they infested you...> 

You think they'd believe it? Probably they'd just figure I was crazy. Anyway, how likely is it they'd infest me?> 

"Cassandra?" Ilie/Rena interrupted the silent argument. "Is something wrong? You aren't listening." 

She opened her mouth--and found herself still unable to speak. Riae! Cut it _out_!> she sent furiously. 

Reluctantly, Riae released control. They'd better not let you do it,> she muttered. 

"I was thinking," Cassandra said slowly. "Like Midori said, it's me they would recognize...Riae could get through in another host...and if I turned myself in as Visser Thirty-Seven..." 

The response was everything Riae could have wished for. Ilie/Rena and Midori protested at once, loudly and incomprehensibly, while Kyli and Fhren stared in shock. Tariss was shaking her head violently. 

Faizah looked grave, and held up a hand to silence the rest. "Cassandra...you do realize what you're offering? The other Vissers and the Council of Thirteen won't go easy on Riae." 

"I know." Cassandra winced. "Riae knows. She doesn't want me to do it, either. She almost didn't let me offer." 

"You can't!" Midori insisted. "They'll be able to infest you! They'll know you aren't a Controller!" She looked relieved to have come up with a valid objection. 

There was a short silence. Kyli broke it. "There is...a way around that." She managed somehow to look terrified and determined and overwhelmed all in one. 

"No!" exclaimed Fhren, slicing the air emphatically with one hand. "Not you, Kyli! If this host wants to waste her life on a futile attempt to save her Controller, fine, but you're not getting involved!" 

"Fhren, the ground-dweller girl is right. The Storyteller needs a Yeerk to play out the charade. Have you thought what would happen to Tariss if Cassandra is infested?" 

Fhren shook his head adamantly, but there was a growing despair in his gray eyes. "I'll go, then." 

"You know you have a hard time connecting with female hosts. This is too important to risk." Kyli sighed. "Look, Fhren, I'll make it back if I can. If I can't...well, someone needs to protect Tariss." 

He stared at the ground and didn't answer. 

"Aren't we forgetting something?" Riae demanded, seizing control again. Everyone looked at her. "I am _not_ going to trade in another life--two!--for my own! I won't let Cassandra do it. I'll--I'll throw her into a memory loop if I have to!" 

"Riae." It was Ilie. She was still seated on the ground and pressing a hand to the crimson-stained binding on her leg, but her tone was steady, her eyes level. "You and Cassandra have an understanding, even a friendship. You can't crush her down now." 

There was a hesitation, then the Villager added reluctantly, in Rena's softer tones, "Besides, she's right. We don't want to lose either of you, but Cassandra would have a better chance of making it out than you would." 

Cassandra could feel Riae's rapid thoughts if not overhear their content, and she knew it when Riae reluctantly subsided into despondent acceptance. "All right," she whispered finally. "Just--just give us some time. Cassandra will need to know more about me if she's to pull this off." 

Faizah nodded compassionately. Riae stood and took a few steps away for privacy's sake though their conversation would be entirely silent, seating herself once more on the ground. Kyli also drew back, to speak in low, urgent whispers with Fhren. Cassandra noted absently that the Controller's hands were shaking slightly, and then was startled to realize that her hands trembled just as much, whether from her own reaction or Riae's impossible to tell. 

Cassandra...> Riae's mind-voice was low, troubled. I don't want you to do this. I'd rather go myself than send you in there, even if they don't figure it out. Maybe especially then. I know you know what I expect. Are you sure?> 

I'm sure.> Cassandra was surprised at just how certain she was. She fumbled to find the words to explain. Like we've been saying, your knowledge and experience will be of more use to the resistance than I would. I'm just a Storyteller.> 

And then it came to her, the reason for her odd assurance. Besides,> she said slowly, I've become a part of my own story. Maybe all Storytellers imagine that. I know I did. But my part in the story was to tell it, and I can do that best if I go. Who knows, maybe I'll even get other Yeerks to join us.> 

Never happen,> Riae said flatly. Cassandra, no offense, but you're crazy.> 

None taken,> replied Cassandra, trying hard to keep a cheerful tone. But of course, it didn't fool Riae. Cassandra could feel the Yeerk digging farther into her thoughts, searching out her emotions. She wouldn't have hidden them if she could. 

You're terrified,> Riae whispered at last. Cassandra, why would you do this when you're so afraid?> 

I've told you,> Cassandra snapped back. Because it's right and it's logical, and because you're my friend and I will _not_ let you die!> 

There was a stunned sort of silence from the part of her mind that belonged to Riae. All right,> the former visser surrendered with a sense of vast sorrow. All right. I can't stop you.> 

Cassandra couldn't speak, even silently. She felt a hard knot forming in her throat, echoed in her mind by a wordless apology. 

It was a full minute before Riae spoke again. You will need to know more about me...> 

Yes. Probably so.> 

If you agree, the fastest way would be a memory transfer. But you know how unpleasant those can be, especially with time so limited.> 

Cassandra considered. She did indeed know, from old experience--the 'training' phase all hosts went through, with Yeerks who took pleasure in providing scenes of the consequences of disobedience and made no effort to gentle the transfer. But Riae would surely do her best to minimize the pain, and it was necessary, after all. Go ahead,> Cassandra assented, and braced herself for the onrush of memories. 

I'm sorry,> murmured Riae-- 

--and then the world dissolved.   
  


_There was only warmth and the faintest of sounds, a high-pitched noise she could not yet interpret except as a sign of others around her. Tentatively she imitated the noise, letting out a single tone, and heard the sound return softly. Was there something in front of her? She stretched forward, and touched someone else, someone like herself, and knew that there were many such, and they were all together... _

...You are Riae Four-Two-Nine, of the Iriem Palr Pool,> the adult told her brusquely, and she swam away with a new sense of pride... 

...The other grub, her best friend, seemed oddly ill, twisting uncomfortably beside her in the warm liquid. Riae reached out with her palps. What is wrong?> she asked... 

...Lissi's designation had changed, and now there were two of them, one larger, the other smaller. Both were Lissi Six-One-Eight-Double-Two, both soft-spoken and sympathetic, but now the adults seemed to speak only to the prime. Riae couldn't understand... 

...Lissi the lesser touched palps with Riae. They've offered a host to my twin,> she whispered, a permanent one. They say she did well in training, but she let me take some of it instead of her. They don't know. She says we can still trade off...> 

...Riae knew some of what her friends did to manage their partnership was really sort of against the rules that had been set out, but she didn't want to tell. It wouldn't do her any good anyway... 

...She wanted to advance. She'd regret losing both Lissi the prime and the lesser, of course, but it wasn't her fault, and now a promotion was offered for any Yeerk turning in possible rule breakers... 

..."Riae, how could you," Lissi whispered. Riae didn't know which one. One of the pair had escaped into the anonymity of the Yeerk Pool, while the other and her human host were being taken away for trial and sentencing. She did rather regret it, but after all, one couldn't afford friendships... 

..."The Earth Moonbase, Sub-Visser Fifty-three, and a fine post it is," the officer told Riae. "Not much of a job really, just rounding up dissident hosts, but you'll do well and get promoted again, I'm sure, and Earth's a good place to be noticed..." 

..."These hosts are guilty of causing trouble among the cages, and therefore they are to be collected and dispatched," the message read, and Riae scanned the included list, then began to write out the orders... 

..."I only told my stories," the host said, disturbingly earnest, "I only tried to keep the memories, and someone who heard me will continue. I just wish I'd been able to finish." Riae didn't dare reply, though she found the statement intriguing--it might be taken for sympathy... 

...He was human, fair and dark-eyed, and he stood tall on the disintegration platform, calling out words to some tale or other in a strong voice. Riae at last succumbed to curiosity. "Why are you doing this?" she asked softly. But the host only regarded her with something like pity even as he vanished into deadly sparkles... 

...The screen flicked on, and Riae barely dared read the words there. "You are hereby promoted to Visser Nine, and your presence is requested by the Council of Thirteen..." 

...She hadn't expected the host-change, and even less expected that Visser Ten's subordinates would get charge of her host and all the memories the human held, not when she'd reached such a high level. Had she given the Council some other reason to be suspicious of her?... 

...Assigned to a Storyteller, the final irony, and she would make the most of it. Always intrigued by the strange hosts and more so by the determination she felt in this one, she would become one herself, if the girl would only consent to teach her...   
  


Images flickered wildly, memories shifted in dizzying patterns, and for a long moment Cassandra was uncertain who she was. Then she felt Riae's steadying touch at the back of her mind and relaxed. She was Cassandra, human Storyteller and sometime rebel, but for the next few days or weeks she would be Riae, the Yeerk Visser who found herself and became the first Storyteller of her kind. The memories were all there, ready to recall at need, despite the disorienting pace she'd gone through them. 

Riae was waiting rather nervously. _am sorry,> she said, _

Don't worry about it,> Cassandra advised. I never expected you to be perfect, not with being a Yeerk Visser. I do know something about advancement around here.> Actually she felt a little glad Riae had trusted her enough to share it with her, her old regrets and hidden sorrows and shames. 

And you still want to do this.> 

Of course.> 

Riae sighed silently. I'd almost hoped...when you knew what I'd done...that maybe you wouldn't. But I should have known better.> 

Cassandra felt faintly hurt that Riae could have believed that of her. You're my friend, Riae. Even in that memory you were sorry for what you'd done, and now you're making up for it. You can make up for it better by doing some good now than by giving yourself in.> 

You're right. You're right. I'm sorry.> 

There was a long silence, then Cassandra broke it. We may not have another chance for this, so...I want to make you an official Storyteller. I know the apprenticeship's been a little short, but sometimes that happens.> 

A flash of surprised delight came from Riae. Really? What do we do?> she asked eagerly. 

Cassandra snorted aloud. Like you don't know. You looked at all my training memories first thing.> 

Well...yes,> admitted Riae sheepishly. But I still would like you to do it, you know, officially.> 

All right.> Cassandra took a deep breath. She'd always intended to teach someone to be a Storyteller, and though this wasn't exactly as she had envisioned it, she knew the words by heart. Riae, you know all I have to teach you,> she began. You know the stories I have told and the poems I have made. Do you also know the value of a Storyteller and the risks to such a life?> 

I do,> the other replied soberly. 

Will you agree to support the hopes of the hosts and the belief in freedom, always holding these responsibilities above your life?> 

Riae knew the words from Cassandra's memories, but she repeated them slowly, as though she were considering their meaning. I will provide the hosts with hope and the Yeerks with a means of learning their wrongs, keeping freedom, memory, and the stories alive, and I will hold these above my own life.> 

Then you are a Storyteller, with the dangers and joys that entails. You may teach this your art to any who wish to learn, knowing in full your danger and theirs, and you will pass on to them your own stories and those you have been taught.> 

I am a Storyteller, and I will pass the stories on,> Riae completed the ceremony. 

Cassandra dropped the formality, and laughed silently. Congratulations. You're the first Yeerk Storyteller.> 

Yes, I suppose I am, aren't I? I wonder what the Council and the other Vissers would think if they knew,> Riae mused. Better they don't find out. Is that all?> 

Cassandra considered for a moment. There are still the old stories,> she pointed out slowly. Every Storyteller had a few stories they'd made themselves, often one or two begun by their teacher and left unfinished, and the numerous poems that came and went. But definitely most important were the old stories, the true stories handed down for many years--stories of the Animorphs, of Old Earth, of the Hork-Bajir and Andalites and other races. You'll remember them all?> 

Of course,> Riae promised. I'll never forget anything you taught me, Cassandra. And I'll find someone else to carry on, too, if...> she trailed off. 

It was hard to think that this might be the last time they spoke. Despite her brave words, Cassandra really had no expectation of getting out alive. She'd do her best to protect Kyli, but for herself there was little hope. Good luck, Riae,> she whispered. 

The Yeerk was fighting back something like tears. You too,> she said. I think it's time.> 

Several meters away, Kyli was winding up her argument with Fhren, murmuring fiercely and gesturing in tight, angry arcs. The gray-eyed Controller was staring at the ground in despair, no longer fighting, and Kyli finished with a final, quiet word, touching his shoulder. She looked up, and Cassandra met the frightened black eyes with her own brown, no less scared and yet determined. 

Kyli nodded tersely and stood, pulling Fhren up as well. Cassandra gulped, and followed, returning to the small gathering. "We're ready," she said, unable to keep a faint tremor from her voice. 

"Wait," Kyli said. "Riae, my host--you'll be taking her. You need to know, she's not--not like Cassandra. She's given up." 

Riae managed a flashing grin. "I'll have to see if I can change that, then, won't I? Seeing as she'll be free when we reach Cassandra's Village." 

Kyli looked a little doubtful, but nodded in assent. Cassandra held one hand to her ear, tilting her head, and whispered a last farewell to Riae, as Kyli slithered out of her host's ear into Fhren's waiting hand. 

The dark-skinned human sagged immediately, and only Midori's quick dash to support her kept her from falling. Her mouth moved, unused to speech, forming words unintelligible at first. Finally she managed, "Storyteller...infest...?" 

A surge of anger surfaced, at those who would put a host into this condition, and a faint apprehensiveness about having Kyli in her own head. "Riae is a Storyteller," Cassandra told her firmly. "She'll not beat you down. I promise." It might not have been Kyli. Many hosts were like this. 

The host nodded, and struggled to add, "My name...is Erica." 

Hopefully this one still had a chance to recover. "Keep the hope, Erica." 

She smiled faintly at the ancient farewell between hosts, almost forgotten now. "I will, Storyteller." 

Cassandra took a breath and held Riae out. Erica tentatively accepted the Yeerk and tilted her head with the ease of long experience as Riae infested her. Fhren stepped toward Cassandra, raising Kyli to her ear in cupped hands. Cassandra felt the damp touch in her ear, and then the contact of minds. 

For a long moment Kyli said nothing, sinking into Cassandra's thoughts and memories, and Cassandra was unable to move on her own. Cassandra stretched to see the Yeerk's emotions, and caught a hint of the expected apprehension--and, surprisingly, astonishment. What is it?> she asked curiously. 

They were right,> came the faintly bemused response. The histories of the takeover...they said voluntary hosts were preferred because they were easier to control, less likely to affect the Yeerk. I never really thought anything could be easier than controlling a host who'd given up entirely, but...you're something else, Cassandra.> 

Thank you, I think,> Cassandra said, puzzled. Can I have control?> 

Kyli withdrew somewhat at once, her sense oddly respectful. Of course.> 

Cassandra looked out to see Erica just straightening as Riae took control. It was odd to see her friend look at her through the human's black eyes, odd not to feel the pain she saw in them, bright with unshed tears. "Well," she said softly, and could get nothing else out. 

"You'll leave first," Faizah said briskly. "We'll get started as soon as you're out of sight. Take the upper streets, don't hide, but don't look like you're turning yourself in. You aren't supposed to know you're in trouble, remember. If either of you manage to get away after, I'm sure you know the way to safety. Whatever you do, don't let them find out about us." She smiled rather wanly. "But you're a Storyteller, Cassandra, you already know all that." 

Cassandra nodded, looking at the gang leader. "I'll do my best. You'll all be safe." 

Faizah hesitated, then held out her hand in a gesture that predated even the Yeerk invasion. Cassandra grasped it briefly, then turned away and began to walk slowly down the empty, crumbling street. 

They'd almost reached the corner when Cassandra looked back, breaking her own resolve. Faizah was involved in getting the group into marching order, Midori was helping Ilie/Rena to stand. Riae stared at the ground, her posture one of deep sorrow and guilt. Fhren gazed after them, his eyes filled with loss. 

I'm sorry!> Kyli cried silently in the back of Cassandra's mind. I'm sorry, Fhren, I didn't mean it!> 

_Didn't mean what?_ Cassandra couldn't help wondering, but she knew better than to ask. No doubt it had something to do with that final conversation, and she didn't want to pry. It'll be all right,> she said gently. You'll get back to tell him whatever you want to.> 

Kyli laughed bitterly. Maybe, Cassandra. Maybe.> 

There was silence for a time, as Cassandra picked her way through the ancient streets and Kyli searched through her mind. At last she said, Do you really believe that?> 

Can't you tell?> Cassandra asked, faintly surprised. 

No,> admitted Kyli. Not very well. Not while you have control. And...it almost feels like you _do_ believe it...but you can't, not really.> 

Why shouldn't I believe it?> Cassandra demanded. Maybe it doesn't seem likely now, but I can think of a half-dozen ways you'd get out of this. Just because you don't see something doesn't mean it's not there, you know.> 

Kyli settled deeper into Cassandra's thoughts, her feel a bit suspicious. Then it changed abruptly to shock as she found one particular half-formed idea. You're going to try and protect me?> she asked in disbelief. Protect _me_? Why in the galaxies would you do a crazy thing like that? I'm a Yeerk! You're a host! Things just don't work this way!> 

Cassandra came close to laughing. I'm protecting Riae, aren't I?> 

Well, yes, but that's...that's different!> Kyli insisted. You're friends! And I...> She fell silent. 

I've enough on my conscience already,> Cassandra said softly. I don't want anyone else killed, not if I can help it. And I think I can, here.> 

With a faint sigh, Kyli whispered, I hope so. I shouldn't, but I do.> 

They walked on in silence. The once-smooth streets crunched into smaller pieces beneath their feet, buildings on either side staring blindly with windows that still held a few shards of broken glass. Somewhere a cat hissed and a canine barked back, bringing a faint smile to Cassandra's face; even the Yeerks hadn't been able to kill off all of Earth's wildlife. 

There was no way to measure time except by the distance they traveled, and after a bit the streets all began to look the same. Cassandra's thoughts turned inward, going over Riae's tone of voice and turn of phrase to prepare for the role soon to come, finding possibilities to take the place of truths she couldn't reveal. 

Kyli's voice interrupted her train of thought: If we turn here, we'll reach the inhabited part of the city. The spaceport's not far. Someone will be there.> 

For a brief moment Cassandra entertained the idea of turning back, hiding in the tunnels instead, but she discarded it quickly. Only when she as the supposed Visser Thirty-Seven was captured would the security on the transport tubes be lifted enough to let the real one through. Besides that, she'd promised, and she wouldn't break that promise. All right,> she said, and turned down a different street toward the distant roar of spacecraft taking off and landing. 

Sure enough, it was not long before the streets turned smoother and the buildings vanished, replaced by the beginnings of construction on the outskirts of the Yeerk city. Cassandra vaguely wondered how long it would take for someone to report her presence as she passed low-ranked Controllers scurrying about the streets, keeping her head high and trying hard to look like a Yeerk visser--more specifically, like Riae. 

About five streets later her question was answered, as a small hovercraft with the marks of a high-ranked Yeerk transport appeared in the sky and sped toward her. The street was clear of other Controllers in five seconds flat, long before the vehicle even began to slow and descend in front of Cassandra. 

Cassandra stopped well out of the danger zone and waited imperiously as the door opened. A human-Controller jumped out, one Kyli knew only by sight as Sub-Visser Eighteen. Cassandra knew a bit more from Riae's memories; he was Jissem Two-One-Five, an ambitious Yeerk who had charge of the police system on Earth. 

He approached her warily and began to speak, but Cassandra beat him to it. "It is," she said haughtily, "about time someone came this way. I have been walking for at least an hour." 

A bit of the wariness left Jissem's face and he bowed deferentially. "Of course, Visser. Allow me the privilege of transporting you." 

Cassandra sniffed and stepped past him into the craft, seating herself in the passenger-side chair and acknowledging him only with a nod as he hurried in and took the pilot's seat. He's relieved you don't know you're to be arrested,> Kyli remarked. 

Yes. He won't tell until he's sure we can't try to escape,> agreed Cassandra. 

The vehicle smoothly lifted off and rose above the buildings, Jissem skillfully handling the controls. "How were you stranded way out here, Visser?" he asked with just the right mixture of curiosity and diffidence. 

"Some idiot managed to get authorization for a proton bomb down in the old tunnels," she said scornfully. "Taxxons got to them before I could, from what I found of the equipment. Waste of time." 

Jissem nodded. "Such things are an insult to the Empire," he commented, and they spent the rest of the short trip in silence. 

Home || Back to Archives


	9. The Defeated, Chapter Nine

The Defeated, Part Nine _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Nine   
translated by DawningStar

Cassandra stepped off the craft with a well-hidden terror and a face that held all the pride of a Yeerk visser. Kyli offered a low-key stream of information as it was needed, and Riae's transferred memories were there as well on demand. In the detached portion of her mind that was usually occupied with ideas for stories, Cassandra thought idly that most impostors didn't have the advantage of the memories of the person they were supposed to be. It ought to give her an advantage, anyway. It might also prove Riae's undoing, should anyone think to check the Yeerk's identity. 

Don't think like that,> Kyli chided. Weren't you just telling me I should be more optimistic?> 

Not in those words,> countered Cassandra. Maybe the banter would keep the worry off her face before it had a right to appear. 

But she couldn't let herself be distracted, either. She was entering the main building in Arrain Eram, Jissem accompanying her at a respectful distance. That wouldn't last long, Cassandra knew, only until she was too far in to escape. 

The building here wasn't nearly as big as the main offices of Earth, and Riae should have been the highest-ranked Yeerk there--but an Andalite-Controller Cassandra recognized as the current Visser Five appeared, no doubt summoned by Jissem before he'd picked her up. Once Visser Ten, this was Riae's rival and as such would probably be the one to present the charges against her. 

Cassandra fell immediately into the deferential attitude expected of a lesser-ranked Yeerk, even another Visser. It wasn't hard; she'd been lectured many times about proper respect by nearly every Yeerk she'd been assigned to. "Visser Five," she bowed, "what an unexpected honor to see you here." 

Unexpected, perhaps,> Visser Five replied with a cold facsimile of an Andalite smile, but I think no honor, for you at least.> 

"What do you mean, Visser?" asked Cassandra, cocking her head in feigned bewilderment. "You speak as though you believe I have done something wrong." 

He laughed humorlessly, and gestured outward. Cassandra looked, and saw herself surrounded by Controllers carrying Dracon beams. You speak as though you can convince me otherwise--traitor.> 

"But I've done nothing except what I was ordered to do!" Cassandra protested, allowing fear to cross her face. 

That's it,> Kyli whispered. Keep saying you're innocent. He'd be really suspicious if you admitted to anything.> 

_As though he isn't now,_ thought Cassandra, but Kyli was right--no Yeerk would ever willingly admit wrongdoing. The consequences were too severe, and frequently an innocent expression and faultless acting could get one off the hook. 

But not in this case, Cassandra knew. Riae had made too many enemies in now-higher places, there was too much evidence of her soft-heartedness toward hosts. She could only hope to play out the charade, get Kyli to safety, and then...erase all chance of Riae's memories and her own being uncovered. 

Visser Five stared at her with cold green eyes, and shook his head. You know what will happen to you, Riae,> he said suddenly in private thought-speak. Why not make it easier on yourself and admit it? Maybe we can even get the penalty reduced.> 

Cassandra responded with a Visser's icy glare, and was escorted away by the numerous guards with her head held proudly high. 

* * *

Kyli, thought to be Riae, was given a chance to feed in the Yeerk Pool before the Council would convene for the trial. A Hork-Bajir-Controller guard advised her that she'd be kept in a separate area to avoid any attempt at escape, and that her host would be left with the other hosts belonging to high-ranked Yeerks, as she was escorted down to the pool area. 

Cassandra was almost amused by the familiar cages. They were fuller than such an elite pool would normally have been, but not overly crowded...still, many hosts were within earshot... 

The Yeerk touched her memories briefly and read in them something of her intent. Oh, Cassandra, must you? You'll get us both in trouble.> 

Like we're not already? Kyli, this is what I _do_. I can't...not do it. And they know I'm a Storyteller--it won't reflect on you.> 

Kyli sighed. I suppose. I can't stop you, anyway.> 

Very true. Don't worry. Maybe this will even help somehow.> 

There was an unmistakable snort as Kyli disconnected and slipped out into the opaque gray liquid. 

Cassandra let herself sag in the manner of a long-time host, and was caught carefully by the Hork-Bajir guard. He half-supported, half-dragged her to a cage--a single cage, she noted, faintly disappointed, with no other hosts in it. No matter, the pool was small enough that everyone should hear her. 

The Hork-Bajir thrust her into the cage and locked the door behind her. Leaning against the bars, Cassandra reconsidered. Would it put Riae in danger, if she continued to fulfill her role as a Storyteller? Would it put Kyli under suspicion? 

But she was a Storyteller above all, and looking at the full cages, she knew she couldn't deny the hosts whatever measure of hope she might provide. Telling the stories of the Village was obviously out of the question, but perhaps one of the ancient times, or even an Animorph-story...or a poem, first, to get their attention, Cassandra mused. Then she remembered Tal's songs, and smiled. Perfect. Not the second, for fear she'd be connected to the resistance, but the first--yes, that was safe enough. 

"We cried in silence," she began the poignant tune, "pleas unheard   
and slowly we gave in,   
We looked around   
and found no hope   
no way for us to win."   
Then a flute's delicate tones picked up the melody, and Cassandra faltered for a moment in wild disbelief before continuing. _Tal!_ "We searched for help   
and meanwhile dreamed   
but our help never came,   
We dreamed of freedom   
dreamed of peace   
but war stayed just the same." Other voices joined in as they went into the chorus, uncertain at first but growing stronger, and the next verse was filled with a joy rarely if ever heard in the Yeerk Pool. "Never forget   
but keep in mind   
the way things used to be,   
Right is still right   
and wrong is wrong   
this is what we must see.   
Empires fall   
and nations rise   
and peace will come someday,   
But we are here   
and here our task   
is showing the right way. 

And some forget   
and some still dream   
and some in silence weep,   
And some give up   
and some give in   
and some the memories keep.   
And some the memories keep." 

_So it really is well-known, like Tal said,_ Cassandra thought in wonder as she finished and the clear notes of the flute trailed away. _Was that him playing? Is his Yeerk here?_ She searched the nearby cages but didn't see the song-maker. It didn't seem likely that there would be another host with a flute, and yet... 

But that didn't matter much for the moment, if she couldn't find him. They weren't likely to be able to talk. 

Cassandra let out a sigh and closed her eyes briefly, clearing her thoughts, then looked up. The hosts in their cages watched her with something close to eager anticipation, ears long-dulled from screams and pleas now open to hear whatever story she would tell. She smiled. This was why she had become a Storyteller, after all. 

"Her name was Cassie," she began in the traditional words, "and she was an Animorph..." 

* * *

The liquid was cool and splashed against her face. Cassandra knew from experience it would sting if she opened her eyes. The Hork-Bajir's firm grip held her motionless as Kyli brushed against her ear and slid within. 

There was a moment's silence as the Yeerk accessed memories, then So you did attract attention,> in a tone of disappointment. A story _and_ a song, at that.> 

I _did_ tell you I would,> the human pointed out. And no one seems to be suspicious.> 

Yes, well...we can hope it will stay that way.> Kyli paused. Do you really think your friend is here?> 

Cassandra sent a mental shrug. It's possible. Let's keep an eye out for him, in any case. Do you want to do this part, or shall I?> 

The equivalent of a shudder came from the Yeerk's portion of the shared mind. Definitely not me. You know Riae better than I do, anyway.> 

All right, then.> The Hork-Bajir-Controller pulled them gently into an upright position, and stepped away. Cassandra looked about. 

The caged hosts looked studiously away from her, obvious in their attempts to remain disconnected from the possible troublemaker--couldn't have the Yeerk now controlling her reporting them, after all. Cassandra wished she could reassure them, but to do so would have been tantamount to suicide. 

The Hork-Bajir guards waited for her at the end of the dock, Dracons ready though not yet aimed exactly at her. Cassandra walked toward them, and they formed up around her almost like an honor escort--though perhaps a little closer than was wise, so near the edge of the Yeerk Pool... 

A plan suddenly came together in Cassandra's mind. She hadn't intended to do this so soon, but this might be the best chance she would get. Kyli, now's the time. Slip out and get into the pool. Wait a while, then take one host or another--preferably an involuntary who can be freed, if you can manage it--and get to the Chee. You know where they are as much as I do.> 

_Now?_ Cassandra...> Kyli protested weakly. But the human could feel the Yeerk's eagerness to be safe, out of danger, and back with Fhren and Tariss. 

Cassandra sent a reassuring smile to her unexpected ally. You've risked enough for us, Kyli. More than enough. You deserve to get out of this safely, and we may not get another chance.> 

A silent sigh, half relief, half reluctance. I'm sorry, Cassandra. I'll...do what I can to make sure everything turns out well. And thank you.> 

Without forming a conscious reply, Cassandra made a single misstep, just a few inches too close to the Hork-Bajir who strode next to her. His taloned foot caught hers, and the human went sprawling to the ground, nearly tumbling into the pool. Her shoulder-length dark hair covered her ears fully, and as she got to her feet with the help of the disgraced guard, telling him off for his clumsiness, no one noticed the single tiny splash. 

* * *

Thirteen figures in a hologram were the focal point of the room, the Council who had to judge all trials of Vissers. Most were Andalite-Controllers, still considered a sign of status despite the vast numbers of Andalites now hosts. There were also two humans, one Hork-Bajir, and one Ongachic. All wore the traditional robes and expressions of indifference. 

Visser Five would prosecute, as she'd surmised, but he hadn't yet arrived from feeding. This wasn't a very important trial, after all, despite the defendant's high rank. It was fairly cut-and-dried; Riae had displeased higher-ranked Yeerks, and so she would be tried and sentenced for that. There was really no chance she could get out of it, not like Edriss Five-Six-Two, who'd been similarly put on trial and afterwards found her way back into favor with the capture of the Anati system. 

Cassandra could have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. The whole thing would be a typical Yeerk trial--truth far less important than the way in which lies were told and what benefit she could be to certain high-placed members of the Empire. And the funniest part of all was the part no one could be allowed to learn, the fact that the Yeerk supposed to be on trial was safely away by now, and her host would take the sentence for her. 

At last, the door to the trial chamber swung open. A Yeerk Cassandra knew had to be Visser Five entered, her guards giving slight bows while still keeping a close eye on their charge. She looked curiously to see what host body he was in, expecting Hork-Bajir or Andalite, probably not human. But he was human, and more than that, a host she knew--her prosecutor's host body was her friend Tal! 

Cassandra hastily blinked and kept the inspection to a quick glance, but it took all her self-control not to stare or otherwise give herself away. How would it make Tal feel, she wondered, being here for this? And probably he'd be there when they carried out her sentence, too, since it was the usual procedure for the prosecutor to do that. She wished there was some way to tell Tal what was going on, but it was impossible if she was to bring this off. 

It might have been her imagination, but Visser Five's glance toward her almost seemed to carry a hint of regret. Cassandra remembered what Tal had said about his Yeerk, and tried to fit what she knew of Visser Five into that picture. It wasn't a very good match. The ambitious rival Visser, sympathetic enough to allow his host a flute? 

Maybe Tal had been reassigned, though she hoped not, for his sake. Maybe Riae had been wrong in her judgment of the other Yeerk, or something had happened since. After all, it would be hard to believe Riae was now a Storyteller without knowing everything that had been going on... 

She shook her head slightly to draw her attention back where it belonged, in the courtroom. There really wasn't time for speculation. 

"I apologize for my tardiness, honored members of the Council, " Visser Five said, bowing toward the hologram. "It was unavoidable." 

There was no way to tell which of the Council members spoke, or indeed if any of them had. "It is forgiven you, Visser Five. We shall begin. The charges," the detached voice requested. 

"The Yeerk Riae Four-Two-Nine of the Iriem Palr Pool, currently holding the rank of Visser Thirty-seven, is charged with the following crimes: treason by sympathy with a subject species, which carries a sentence of death by Kandrona starvation, and treason by contact with the rebel Yeerk Peace Movement, which carries a sentence of death by torture," the computer read off emotionlessly. 

Of the two, Cassandra decided, Kandrona starvation would be much preferable. Aside from the obvious reason that it wouldn't actually do _her_ any harm, she would have at least three more days for Riae and the rest to make good their escape...though still there was little probability she could allow the sentence to be carried out; too much danger of discovery. Torture was definitely out of the question. Cassandra had never had reason to find out how much pain she could withstand, and by all accounts the people employed for such sentences _did_ know, in detail. Far too much risk, considering all she knew, even balanced against the fact that no one would believe more than a quarter of it... 

"You have heard the charges against you, Visser Thirty-seven; will you acknowledge, deny, or claim mitigation?" Visser Five asked, looking over at her. For an instant she could have sworn his eyes held sympathy. Tal, probably, through the Yeerk's defenses. 

_Tal has nothing to do with this,_ Cassandra told herself firmly again, and drew a breath. She could _not_ allow herself to become distracted, not now. "I claim mitigation." 

A flicker, a tiny movement in the hologram of the Council chamber. The claim was unusual for such a trial, Cassandra knew, but in keeping with Riae's character. She was fundamentally honest despite the lies necessary to rise so far in the Empire, and the best chance for the demoted Visser to survive this trial would have been to stick to simple truth--omitting, of course, a few key details. It was a part Cassandra didn't mind playing. 

Visser Five nodded. "Very well. You admit, then, that you did in fact sympathize with humans, and contact the rebels?" 

"I did not say that. The second charge is false in that I did not speak with any rebels of my own designs; it was necessary for me to enter the tunnels below Arrain Eram to prevent the detonation of a proton bomb, and in the course of that I encountered the gangs of hosts that roam those tunnels. I convinced them to assist me in disarming the bomb, because it was that or allow the city to be destroyed. Certainly I have never knowingly spoken with treasonous Yeerks." Ilie didn't count. She wasn't exactly a Yeerk anymore, after all. 

"And your excuse for your sympathy with a subject race?" 

Cassandra suppressed a frown. He didn't seem to be going at this as hard as she'd expected. Tal's influence, his own idea? Or did he just have something else up his sleeve? "I will admit to pity for some hosts--but who has not felt such?" she began. "Those who have served and then were discarded in the tunnels, their plight I pity, and I have tried occasionally to make things easier on my own hosts. I find this leads to greater effectiveness. And truly, what Yeerk can avoid some stirring of sympathy for hosts in such situations? It has never been a capital offense to do one's best to improve relations between Yeerk and host, and I have never gone beyond what is acceptable." Well, _she_ hadn't. Riae's actions there might be questionable, but still nothing that would have gotten her in trouble without her interference in other things. 

A warning glance from Tal's warm brown eyes. Was the Visser depending on Cassandra's friendship with Tal to keep Riae from putting him in danger? It would be an iffy proposition at best. Still, he was right. The flute was bordering on unacceptable, even for a high-placed Visser's auxiliary host, and Cassandra didn't want to get Tal in trouble. She'd have to stay away from that line of defense. 

Actually, a weak defense there might suit her purposes, when it came to time to decide the sentence. Cassandra let out an inaudible sigh, and settled down for the long arguments sure to come. 

* * *

The trial lasted for barely an hour, not unexpected since the evidence was already known and Riae's punishment probably already decided on. Visser Five made the closing statements before the hologram winked out and they were left alone, save for the presence of the thirteen Hork-Bajir-Controllers. 

Visser Five looked at her for a long moment. Cassandra kept her face carefully blank of either fear or any other inappropriate emotion. She was actually rather proud of her performance; so far at least, no one had noticed any change in the supposed Yeerk's actions. But a momentary expression of triumph could ruin everything. 

And it was harder than she had thought to keep quiet--to a certain extent, this was actually almost fun. She, a lowly host, was fooling the leaders of the entire Yeerk Empire. 

The Visser made a signal to the leader of the guards, who took a step in, expressionless as always. "Leave us," Tal's Controller ordered abruptly. 

The Hork-Bajir hesitated. "It is highly irregular," he said slowly. "You will assure neither you nor the prisoner will be harmed, Visser?" 

With a curt nod, Visser Five drew out his Dracon. "We'll be fine. I wouldn't be so foolish as to attack her when she's about to be sentenced anyway," he added at the guard's uncertain glance toward the weapon. 

The thirteen guards left the room, and the door swung shut behind them with a metallic echo. Visser Five met Cassandra's eyes, a hint of uncertainty in his own. "It's not bugged," he said. "I made sure of that before we started." 

"What is this about, Visser?" Cassandra asked. She was more than a little startled, but didn't dare show that. "And how can you be certain the room isn't bugged?" 

He coughed, and confessed, "I used a pulse-wave. It's safe. Would you like me to insult the Council to convince you?" 

Cassandra barely covered a smile. The pulse-wave devices would send out a single high-energy signal, shorting out any recording device in range for at least three hours--another example of marginally illegal technology available to those who could pay for it. "That isn't necessary. But you haven't said why you're so concerned about not being overheard." 

"Because if we were I'd be in nearly as much trouble as you," he snapped. "Sympathy with hosts, remember?" 

She shook her head, not understanding. 

Visser Five let out a sigh. "My host wants to speak with yours," he muttered. "They met during a feeding cycle, and--why am I telling you this, you know already. He wants a chance to talk before you and probably your Cassandra as well are killed." 

Cassandra knew her mouth was open, but she couldn't seem to close it. "So you are the Yeerk Tal spoke of in the cages? I wouldn't have thought you kind enough to allow a host such a pastime," she said at last. 

He grimaced. "Probably I shouldn't have, but Tal--well, no matter. Will you let your host speak with mine, or not?" 

"All right," Cassandra agreed. "She's listening." 

The other took a deep breath, and then the bearing changed infinitesimally. The pride was gone; in its place a sort of fearful hope. "Cassandra?" Tal asked. 

Cassandra relaxed her guard and let the pretenses she carried drop. "It's me, Tal. What's so important? You know how dangerous this is--to all four of us." 

"I know," Tal nodded, "but I had to talk with you. Cassandra, listen, don't blame Sarim, okay? You or your Yeerk." 

After a moment's thought, the request made more sense than it seemed to at first; at least in part, Tal was afraid she would blame him, for being unable to save her somehow. "I won't," Cassandra promised. "Whatever happens, I bear no ill will toward your Yeerk or you, Tal. Riae doesn't either." 

Tal managed a smile, though it trembled and faded quickly. "Thanks," he whispered. "One--one other thing. I know you probably haven't had a chance to pass on your stories and poems and all, and I don't know all of them, but I'll remember those I've heard for you, and continue them, if I can." 

For the second time in as many minutes, Cassandra was stunned speechless. The offer to remember a Storyteller's works meant accepting the possibility of dying for the stories, and the Storyteller. It was the next closest thing to actually becoming a Storyteller. Events Tal knew nothing of had made the offer unnecessary, but it touched Cassandra deeply. She was certain Tal meant it with all his heart. 

Wordlessly, Cassandra embraced her friend. "Thank you," she told him. "It means a great deal to me." 

Tal's eyes brimmed with tears. He dashed them away, tried another smile that didn't quite hold. "I know. Thank you for not blaming us. Most would." 

"Well, it isn't really anyone's fault, is it? There's something wrong with the whole system." 

The songwriter hummed a snatch of a song, Cassandra's own Council-tune. It brought a smile to her face. "That, too. Good luck, Tal, in whatever you do. And Sarim--treat him well." 

That subtle change again, in reverse, and once again Visser Five looked through his host's eyes. He seemed oddly shaken. "I will, Cassandra," he said, something close to respect in his voice. 

Home || Back to Archives


	10. The Defeated, Chapter Ten

The Defeated, Part Ten _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Ten   
translated by DawningStar

"The Council of Thirteen has reached its decision, Riae Four-Two-Nine," declared one of the faceless members through the hologram. Cassandra let out an inaudible sigh; the lack of rank there meant a fairly severe sentence, death most likely. Well, she'd expected that going in. 

"You are found guilty of the charge of treason by sympathy with a subject species, and hereby stripped of all rank in the Yeerk Empire. You are sentenced to death by Kandrona starvation, your host to be eliminated following completion of this for subversion of a Yeerk Visser. The sentence will be carried out by Visser Five." 

Cassandra stared at her hands and schooled her face to show a suppressed terror, no trace of the triumph she actually felt. Oh, the fate which awaited her was certainly unpleasant, but Riae, Tariss, and Faizah and her gang would have a whole three days at least to make it to safety. If she could manage it, maybe no one would ever have to know she wasn't Riae. Suicide was hardly unusual to escape the pain of Kandrona starvation, after all... 

But the situation seemed to call for some kind of response. It was an opportunity many Storytellers dreamed about, the chance to tell off the Council of Thirteen to their faces--and there really wasn't anything more they could do. She and Riae had been sentenced to death, the worst death a Yeerk could know for Riae, even if not unexpected. 

So all in all...Cassandra banished any hint of amusement from her face and looked up. Here was her chance to _tell_ the people in charge exactly what was going wrong with their system. Not that there was much chance that they would listen, but any chance at all was worth a try. 

Visser Five was bowing toward the hologram, saying something about carrying out his responsibilities. Cassandra took a step forward. "Councilors," she said clearly, "I wish you to know that I will hold no one here to blame for my death. Not even you, for I understand that you must protect the integrity of the Yeerk Empire." 

One of the human-Controllers gave a half-hidden smile, opened his mouth, probably about to say something to the effect that that was very nice of her but they didn't especially care. Cassandra overrode him. 

"After all, it is important, is it not, to make examples? Examples you can hold up to the Empire to show what happens to those Yeerks who somehow develop that dangerous thing called a conscience. Of course, when examples don't work--well, that just means more people up here in my place, right? More examples. 

"Far be it from me to suggest that the great leaders of the Empire might actually be _wrong_ about something. Killing off anyone who seems to be a threat is fairly successful in eliminating those visible threats. Before long, no one much dares challenge you openly, and that's what you're aiming for, right? 

"Then there are the quiet challenges--when the lowly, unimportant Yeerks and their hosts manage to find a compromise with one another. That can't happen, either, if you want to keep everything stable, because what happens when those Yeerks get promoted? And as for the hosts, they move on to different Yeerks, with the knowledge that not all Yeerks will hurt them. That sort of host wears on a Yeerk eventually. Sooner or later, they're going to become friends with that host, or at least something less than enemies. 

"And you don't know who it is. Oh, some are reported, and you get rid of those--sometimes you infest the host again, see who else they've contaminated. It doesn't work. This sort of thing spreads worse than a disease, because when you spend hours, days, weeks on end with someone, you begin to understand their views. After that it becomes very hard to hate." 

Visser Five was staring incredulously at her, shaking his head in disbelief. Somewhere behind his eyes, Cassandra was sure, Tal was being asked to explain her actions. Probably he'd have a hard time with that. 

"The problem with all this, though, is that suppressing that sort of thing only makes it grow. When a host can point to one of your examples and say, Look, she was like you, she was a hero, and she did her best, and they killed her for it--what then? It makes a Yeerk think, and that's something you can't have. Thinking is dangerous, because eventually someone will arrive at answers. 

"I have served the Yeerk Empire to the best of my ability all my life. I'll continue to serve it now, I suppose, or at least according to you people I will. But someone's going to know what happened, and someone else will make a story of it, and what you're trying to crush out will keep spreading. And until and unless you realize that--" Cassandra didn't have to pretend the feeling in her voice--"your house of cards here _is going to fall_." 

The Council of Thirteen was for once in their collective lifespan utterly shocked, speechless with fury. A Hork-Bajir-Controller in the hologram, trembling visibly with rage, motioned sharply. One of the guards took a single step forward and silenced Cassandra rather effectively with a stun-level Dracon shot. 

* * *

She woke slowly, and it took a moment to remember what had happened. The fact that she was seated in a hard chair and couldn't move arms or legs helped somewhat. 

Cassandra opened her eyes and looked down. She was tied to a chair, a standard model from a Blade ship, with rope. Old-fashioned plant fibers or more likely strands of plastic, twisted together for strength. That brought a very faint smile. Remembering her impromptu speech was cause for another. More than likely no one had ever dared talk to the Council that way. 

"I don't know what you're so happy about," came a voice from in front of her. It was Tal's voice, and Cassandra looked up to see. Visser Five slumped in a similar seat a few feet away from her. He shook his head at her. "You're sentenced to death. Quietly, because they're afraid you might give another speech and cause a riot--not that they admitted it. Which is probably what you had in mind when you gave that ridiculous thing." 

It was difficult to shrug tied to a chair, Cassandra discovered. "Not really. I just thought it was time someone told them the truth." 

Visser Five snorted with laughter. "You should know by now no one wants to hear the truth, or how did you get such a high rank in the first place? No, Riae, I saw you. You were having fun. I won't deny I've wished I could do something of the sort, but was it worth it?" 

"Certainly it was. What more could they do to me--us?" 

The visser looked at her gravely. "They gave me free rein, which in most cases is something even the Council won't do, not without a _few_ limits." 

Cassandra suppressed a shudder. Having the fate of one's worst political opponent in one's hands was something most vissers only dreamed about. Those who had actually gotten the privilege gave rise to rumors that the dreams had been chillingly creative. She didn't think Tal's Yeerk would come up with anything too horrible, yet... "What are your plans, then?" she asked, and the tremor in her voice wasn't feigned. 

Visser Five stared at the floor. "I don't know," he admitted, and Tal's mannerisms were evident in the way he glanced up. "You're--not so bad as I thought, once. I would find it difficult, to do something like that. Hard even to carry out sentence." 

"I appreciate that," Cassandra observed, "but it's still your duty. I'm sure you don't want to be in my position, and, odd as it may sound, I don't want you to get in trouble either." 

There was no answer for a long moment. At last Visser Five stood up. "For Cassandra's sake Tal almost convinces me to abandon my duty," he admitted, "but I have worked too long for this position to give it up easily. I hope your generosity lasts once you know what will happen." 

Her voice sounded oddly gentle even to her, addressed to the Yeerk who was planning her death; but it really wasn't his fault, and Tal was there, too. "Sarim, you are an honorable Yeerk, and that's rare these days. You're an honorable Visser, and that is rarer. I've done a good many things I'm not proud of to get to my position, and few of them came with orders this clear-cut. I don't blame you, Sarim." 

Moving to the door, his only response was a brief nod. Cassandra sighed, leaning back in her chair. Here at last was the crisis. She had three days, and she'd play to get full time out of it, but if she hadn't managed a disappearance by the end there was little hope of fooling them into believing Riae was dying of Kandrona starvation. Her acting skills weren't _that_ good. 

Meanwhile, as long as she was alone, there were always poems to finish and stories to go over. Boredom was very rare indeed for a Storyteller, taught by years of waiting in the background of her own mind to take advantage of whatever time she had. 

* * *

There was no telling how long it had been, and Cassandra was beginning to feel a little nervous. She'd completed two poems, gone over another dozen or so, and rehearsed several of the oldest stories she knew, and still no one had come. 

Well, if they were just going to leave her be, she would try to get some sleep--the chair really wasn't too uncomfortable, though being tied in one position was beginning to give her a faint ache in the back of her neck. Cassandra twisted a bit within the ropes and leaned back, shutting her eyes. 

Whether she actually fell asleep or just dozed off, it didn't seem long before the door slid open once more. It wasn't Tal who stood there, however, but an unfamiliar host, a blonde human female just reaching middle age. 

It was her eyes that tipped Cassandra off to the fact that this was not an ordinary visit, not just a guard checking on the prisoner. Bright blue, they were filled with a cold hatred directed at her or more likely at Riae, enough to make the Storyteller flinch back. Cassandra searched quickly through Riae's memories for Yeerks or hosts she might have offended this deeply, and found quite a few possibilities. No help there. 

The newcomer took the seat in front of Cassandra. "Do you remember me?" she asked. "I go by Issila Eight-One-Six these days, but you knew me as--" 

"Lissi," Cassandra gasped, and Riae's guilt manifested itself on her face. 

She nodded. "Lissi. The best friend you betrayed. It's taken you a long way, hasn't it, Riae? All the way to Visser level. I don't know how many others you betrayed on your way up, but I was the first. I suppose I should see that as some sort of honor." Lissi leaned forward. "Well, I don't." 

Cassandra sighed. "I _am_ glad that you survived, Lissi. I've often regretted what I did then--believe that or not as you like." 

"Easy enough to say that _now_," Lissi spat. "You killed my sister, Riae! My twin! They sentenced her to Kandrona starvation! Do you have any _idea_ what that did to me? Knowing she was out there, hearing about what they'd done to her and never shedding so much as a tear for fear they'd find out who I was? I hid for years, changing names and hosts every three days, never letting anything leak, before the Visser found me--I lived to find you again, Riae, to get my revenge on you. And now I have." The Yeerk leaned forward. "So tell me, why shouldn't I kill you as you killed Lissi the prime?" 

So it had been the prime they caught, Cassandra thought distractedly, Riae had always wondered about that... "Lissi, I can't answer that. I could try to explain or to tell what I have done since, but it won't change your mind, and it could put others in danger." 

Lissi sat back, her face startled. "People you care about? I thought Yeerk vissers weren't allowed to care." 

"It's rather strongly discouraged," Cassandra agreed. 

Shaking her head as though to clear it, Lissi began again. "I don't think you understand, Riae. Visser Five has put your life in my hands. If you convince me to let you go, he says, you'll deserve it." She smiled grimly. "I don't think you can manage it, but you can try. If you fail, after all--well, Sarim's awfully softhearted for a Visser. You won't have it nearly so easy with me." 

Cassandra shut her eyes. So that was what this was about. Not wanting to take the responsibility himself, Sarim had struck on this as the perfect plan. He'd probably been protecting Lissi for years, hoping for this opportunity--the best way to cause pain, confronting an enemy with the past. 

Only what could she say? The simplest answer to Lissi's question was that she wasn't actually Riae, but she couldn't do that, obviously. It would be suspicious for her not to try at all. That left her with making another speech, one that wouldn't endanger her friends and might even convince Lissi. 

_Not very likely,_ Cassandra thought, looking up at the ice-cold blue eyes. But it hurt somehow that Riae's best friend of old remembered her this way, when the former Visser had changed so much in just the past few days. She'd do what she could. 

"Lissi," she began softly, "Do you know anything about the hosts' culture? Their Storytellers and stories?" 

Lissi snorted. "Not likely. I don't pay much attention." 

"That's a lie," Cassandra advised her calmly. "You've tried not to care, maybe, but your host still thinks about it. You can't help but absorb some of that. So maybe you'll recognize this:   
"So long as the tales go unheeded,   
so long as hopes fade that once were,   
so long as a childhood is needed--   
So long shall the Village endure." 

The Yeerk shifted uneasily. "It's that old rhyme, the one that goes with the legend about the place where hosts who escape can become kids again and grow up in peace. What does it have to do with anything?" 

Smiling faintly, Cassandra nodded in agreement. "That's right. And it has a great deal to do with my present situation. Maybe you know this--my host is a Storyteller. Her name is Cassandra, and it's mostly her fault I'm here." _All my fault, in fact,_ Cassandra thought, looking away for fear Lissi would see the amusement in her eyes. _Not that where Riae's going is a bad place to be..._ She firmly suppressed a grin, and launched into an edited version of recent events, leaving out most names and all the locations. 

"...so I came back. I would have been recognized too easily. I didn't expect to be arrested so soon," she sighed, finally daring to look up. 

Lissi was staring at her. "_You_ became a Storyteller?" she repeated in disbelief. "_You_? Of all things you could have done, _why_?" 

Several retorts presented themselves, but all would probably offend Lissi and none sounded the least bit like Riae. Accessing memories to find what her friend would have said, Cassandra finally responded, "Because it had to be done, and I was the one who could do it." 

A flicker of doubt entered Lissi's eyes for the first time. "I never told anyone this," she said quietly. "But our host, the one my twin and I shared--she was a Storyteller, too. I'm--glad you are sorry. But I can't forgive you, Riae. I hope you understand that." 

She stood up, and left, the door hissing closed behind her. Cassandra let out a long sigh. It had gone better than expected, really, though she might have skirted too close to the truth in places...time enough to worry about that if Lissi guessed. There was nothing to do for now, save returning to her stories. 

* * *

When Visser Five reentered the room, he looked utterly baffled. "You must be better at making speeches than I thought," he said, "either you or your host. I'd have bet a good deal that nothing could convince Lissi you should live. Certainly not _you_." 

Cassandra blinked, startled. "She actually listened? I did my best, but I didn't really expect it to work." 

"Why not?" demanded Lissi, appearing from behind the Visser. "Were you just lying to save your own skin?" 

"No," Cassandra replied, meeting the accusing blue eyes squarely. "I didn't think you could forgive what I did to you and your twin." 

"I haven't," Lissi informed her. "But a long time ago, I made a promise; to help a Storyteller, if I ever had the chance. I'm not sure I believe you are, but your host doesn't deserve to die from your actions." 

Staring, Cassandra almost began to smile. Perhaps she should tell them--? 

_Not yet,_ she decided. Maybe later, when she was certain, she could drop the pretense. For now, it was nice to know they would help for _her_ sake and not for Riae's--since the Yeerk wasn't even there. "Visser," she asked of Riae's old rival, "what do you intend to do?" 

Tal's eyes closed briefly, then he looked up. "We'll get you out of custody, take you to whatever city you prefer. I can't manage much more. And call me Sarim; most likely I'll lose my career and my life over this." 

"All right, then; Sarim. You have a plan?" 

The Visser nodded briefly. "You're on my Blade ship, in orbit. We fake engine trouble--that won't be hard, we're on the edge of it anyway, no one ever pays for new parts--and we have to set down somewhere. There's confusion, you take the chance to grab a Dracon from a guard, and disintegrate yourself to avoid starvation and whatever else I had planned. We'll make the surveillance tape of that. Meanwhile, Lissi here will have gotten your host a disguise and you'll slip out with the crew." 

"And you won't get a feeding before you leave, or any portable Kandronas either," added Lissi somewhat spitefully. 

"That makes sense," agreed Cassandra. "It would attract attention." 

Sarim glanced at her, but turned away so quickly Cassandra barely caught his shocked face. Had she made a mistake? How would Riae have reacted, a day or so from her limit? There was no time to worry about it now, though. 

Cassandra looked at Tal with a faintly wistful feeling, and asked impulsively of everyone in general, "Would you come with me?" 

Lissi snorted. "And starve? Not likely." 

"No one would starve," Cassandra said patiently. "I certainly have no intention of it, and I'm much closer to my limit than you two are. I'm going to the Village." 

The two Yeerks stared at her with expressions that clearly stated their opinions of her sanity. "Assuming it's real," Lissi started, "what makes you think you can get in? I thought it was this huge secret." 

"It isn't a secret," said Cassandra. "How could it be? The hosts know, so the Yeerks know, even if they don't believe in it. The ways to the Village are easy to find if you want to get in and you aren't close enough for a lot of people to see. It hardly needs to be a secret. No one could attack the Village." 

"I know a lot of people who'd like to try," Sarim muttered half under his breath. 

Cassandra winced at the thought. "They'd better not," she told him. "The Village is inside time itself. That means if it were to be destroyed or harmed, everything else would be, too...so anyone who attacks would simply vanish from all memory. Not exactly pleasant for them, I suppose, but better than the universe imploding." 

From her flinch, Lissi seemed to share Cassandra's aversion to that idea. "Now I understand that bit in the stories," she mumbled. 

"Will you come, then?" asked Cassandra hopefully. "Just for a while? I mean, you wouldn't have to stay...but if you'll be in danger here..." 

Sarim began to grin. "I get it," he said. "You're trying to get us to join your little resistance, aren't you? I wondered when you'd try. You may not have done anything treasonous yet--that was why you sounded so confident in the trial--but you're planning on it." 

"Maybe," Cassandra shrugged a bit evasively. "Mostly I just want you to see it." _For Tal to know I was telling the truth,_ she added silently. And there was the added fact that if they came with her even partway, she could tell them her little secret. Kyli and Riae would be safe enough by then, surely. "So? Will you?" 

The Visser studied her, and at last nodded. "I will. Not for long, but...I'd like to visit this Village the hosts talk so much about. And it shouldn't be dangerous to anyone. Lissi?" 

"Oh, all _right_," the other grumbled. "Nice to know what could possibly change _you_ this much, Riae." 

Cassandra smiled. "I suppose it did, at that. Thank you." 

Moving to her side to release her from the chair, Sarim sighed. "We'd better get started," he said. "There's not much time." 

Home || Back to Archives


	11. The Defeated, Chapter Eleven

The Defeated, Part Eleven _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Eleven   
translated by DawningStar

No more than two hours later, Cassandra was walking at a brisk pace away from the major spaceport city Kassinar, accompanied by Riae's long-time rival Visser Five, Tal, Lissi, who still bore the Yeerk quite a grudge, and whoever Lissi's human host was. She was rather overwhelmed by the whole thing. It could, of course, still be a trick, but she preferred to bury Riae's suspicious instincts and trust the people who were letting her escape. 

_I could tell them now,_ Cassandra mused as they passed the outskirts of the town. It was really rather small, housing only necessary technicians for the spaceport. _Riae's surely safe by now. And even if Kyli isn't, it'd be too late for them to find her..._

She felt guilty for having deceived them for so long. It had been almost fun, pretending in front of the Council of Thirteen, but with Lissi, Tal, and Sarim it was a different matter. Cassandra had almost begun to trust the two Yeerks, and she'd trusted Tal since she had met him in the cages. Besides that, she wanted to see their reactions. 

_I will tell them,_ she decided at last, glancing at her companions. "Stop for a second," she requested. "I, um, need to tell you something." 

They did so, turning to look at her curiously. Lissi's face held a curious mixture of suspicion and anticipation that made Cassandra wonder if she'd already guessed. 

Cassandra took a deep breath. "I'm not really Riae," she said quickly, before she could lose her nerve. "I'm not even a Yeerk. I'm just her host, Cassandra." 

Lissi let out a whoop of laughter, barely muffled to avoid attracting attention. "I knew it!" she crowed. "I _knew_ it! I told you so, Sarim!" 

Amused, Cassandra looked to the Visser. He shrugged ruefully. "Fine, you were right," he agreed, then explained to Cassandra, "Lissi told me when she came out that first time that she thought you weren't Riae. She even conned me into betting on it." 

"Well? Pay up!" Lissi demanded. With a put-upon sigh, Sarim handed over a small credchit of the sort used in minor transactions. 

"What gave me away?" inquired Cassandra curiously. "I thought I'd done a fairly good job." 

"Oh, you did," agreed Lissi, serious again. "It was just--you weren't scared enough. Riae, meeting me, knowing I had control of her fate, she'd have been terrified. You looked frightened, but more...resigned. More than that, you sounded so _sincere_. Riae's never been sincere in her life. Even when she _does_ believe in something, she leaves you wondering." The Yeerk smiled tightly. "I've spent a long time studying her." 

It wasn't hard to come up with a reason why. "Is that why you wanted to let me go, because you knew I wasn't her?" 

"Only partly." Lissi looked down. "The other part--well, if you had been Riae, you'd changed so much I could hardly believe it. If you weren't, she'd obviously managed to get your loyalty and your friendship, and that was enough to make me curious. You knew what was planned for her, and for you, and you took her place anyway. And you're a Storyteller. I _did_ make that promise." 

Sarim snapped his fingers suddenly. "In the Pool! I thought there was something funny about your tripping like that--that was when she left, wasn't it? And you kept going like nothing had happened." He shook his head in admiration. "You might have pulled it off without anyone knowing if I hadn't brought Lissi in...still may. Where's Riae now?" 

"She may be in the Village," Cassandra said doubtfully. It was hard to see Riae leaving the fight just yet. "More likely with the Villagers who've come outside." She wasn't going to correct Sarim's guess; it probably wouldn't make any difference, but she wanted to keep Kyli's secret. 

Lissi let out a sigh. "Has she really changed--that much?" she asked suddenly of Cassandra. 

The Storyteller considered. "From when you knew her...yes. She is a Storyteller now, you know, I taught her myself. And I think she understands the stories. It took me ages to convince her to let me take her place; it was my idea." 

"I have to see her," Lissi muttered. "I have to know--" She turned away. 

Tentatively, Cassandra reached out to touch the Controller's arm. Lissi didn't pull away. "It isn't far to the Village now," the human said softly. 

"How do you know?" Sarim interrupted. "We've been walking for more than an hour and there's still no sign of your Village. I'm beginning to think this is..." He stopped. 

Cassandra only grinned as she pointed him to the path which branched off a few feet ahead. Not only had it not been there a moment before, but it was covered in real, healthy flowers. "That," she told the two Yeerks, "is the way to the Village." 

Lissi and Sarim shared a long look of wonder and bewilderment. Then they all stepped onto the path, and watched the road behind them vanish. 

* * *

The Village, too, looked just as Cassandra had imagined it, though she'd usually visualized it at night and this was morning. Children scurried about more purposefully now; those who were still here weren't ready to reenter time yet, but they could still help from the Village. 

A gray-speckled Naharan Cassandra recognized approached them. "Welcome to the Village," she said. "I'm Kliya. You'd be the Storyteller Cassandra? And Visser Five, and Lissi?" 

They nodded in turn. Kliya twitched her whiskers in amusement at the Controllers' apparent surprise. "Karen is expecting you. She's returned to the Village to meet you all. Come with me." 

Karen waited for them in the hut placed in the exact center of the village. The Time Matrix hung from a net in the ceiling above her, its surface a cloudy white, swirling gently. The human who'd featured in so many stories was no longer a child, but her bright green eyes were unchanged and clearly marked her identity. 

The founder of the Village grinned at the visitors. "Welcome," she greeted them warmly. "Riae's told us a good deal about you, Cassandra. I must say I'm impressed." 

"She's all right then?" Cassandra asked anxiously, "everyone made it?" 

"Everyone is safe," Karen confirmed. "Riae is with the group at our drop point. We offered to let her stay here, but she said that you would want her to help as best she could, and that was with the adults. She'll be ecstatic to see you again--she's been horribly worried about you, you know. When the news of the trial came through we nearly gave you up for lost." 

Cassandra nodded in relief. Everything was working out, then, even better than she had hoped. 

Karen looked to Sarim next. "We don't get many visitors so high-ranked," she commented. "What are your intentions toward the Village?" 

Visser Five shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. At first I didn't really believe it existed. Now...well, I guess I'll do what I can to help you." 

"And your host?" 

"Tal?" Sarim said, faintly startled. "Of course he'll help. He's dreamed of seeing the Village even before he believed in it." 

"That," Karen said rather dryly, "wasn't quite what I meant." But she turned to Lissi. "I know you want to see Riae. Do you still bear hatred toward her?" 

"In other words, can you trust me not to try to kill her," Lissi interpreted with a wry smile. "I can't quite forgive her, but I won't harm her so long as she's working with you. Much as I hate to admit it, Cassandra's right; there are serious problems with the system. I'll help you to fix that before I settle any old grudges." 

With a slight cough, Sarim interjected, "That rather begs the question: how exactly do you intend to 'fix things'? Somehow I doubt the Council of Thirteen will be amenable to your suggestions." 

"You may be surprised," Karen murmured with an enigmatic smile, but she shook her head at further questions. "Sarim, Lissi, I must ask you to release your hosts for a few minutes. We have a Pool for you to feed in. They will be offered the choice of voluntarily hosting you or becoming Villagers themselves--or, I suppose, going with you to help out. No involuntary taking of hosts is permitted within the Village." 

Sarim seemed unsurprised at this, but Lissi was a bit taken aback. "What if they choose not to let us re-infest them?" she demanded. "Do we just stay here?" 

"Of course not," Karen assured her. "There are many Villagers who would be willing to host you. My word on it, you'll have a host within fifteen minutes." 

Uneasily, Lissi nodded her assent. Karen promptly opened the door to a back room, where a small Yeerk Pool swirled with the movement of several Yeerks. Almost a dozen children were there, chatting easily while their temporary partners fed. 

One of the children looked up and grinned at seeing Karen. "Newcomers?" he asked. 

"Yes," replied Karen. "Two Yeerks, three humans. Can you get a couple of volunteers in case the hosts want to stay apart?" 

"Of course." The boy turned and called, "Desi, Mark! Newcomers!" 

The two called approached at once, a girl whose tilted eyes gave her a faintly roguish sort of beauty and a pale-skinned boy. "Good for you," Desi approved. "We don't get so many Yeerks anymore. Most of them just want to get back and forget about the Village. There are more of us who want partners than there are Yeerks to partner with." 

"Why do you want to...partner?" Lissi asked curiously. 

Desi shrugged. "It's kinda lonely, without someone. I got used to talking things over with my Yeerk, but she chose not to stay in the Village. Too...well...peaceful." 

Rather nervously Sarim said, "This isn't permanent, is it?" 

Mark laughed. "Of course not! Not unless we find out we get along well enough to want to make a symbiote pair--which isn't likely since it's your first time here. Go on, into the Pool. We need to talk to your hosts for a bit." 

Lissi nodded shortly and moved toward the small Pool. Mark and Desi came up on either side, gently supporting. "So you don't fall in," Desi explained easily when the Yeerk seemed about to pull away. "One host did, scared everyone half to death and nearly drowned." 

Apparently ignoring the two Villagers, Lissi leaned forward and released her host, slipping into the opaque liquid. The human woman staggered for an instant, caught her balance against the children, and looked about wonderingly. 

"What's your name?" Desi asked her kindly. 

There was an instant's silence as Lissi's host found her voice, then, "Cynda. My name is Cynda." 

"Welcome to the Village, Cynda. You've heard the discussions; do you want to stay with Lissi?" 

Cynda hesitated, cast a guilty look toward the pool and shook her head. "No. Lissi, she's nice enough, I suppose, but--no. I want to stay here. I've heard so much about it, dreamed so long...I want to be a Villager." 

Desi smiled. "I understand. I felt the same way when I first arrived...Karen will take care of you. I'll host Lissi, then," she added to the others. "Once she's fed a bit more." 

The red-haired adult looked kindly at Cynda. "You'll have to become a child--I suppose you know that? All right. Wait a moment, then, while we finish here, if you would. You're next, Visser." 

Sarim glanced about, seeming to draw reassurance from the Villagers, and bent over the Pool. Tal's transition to independence was far smoother, catching his balance quickly and turning toward Cassandra. "You were right," he whispered to her, "you and Palanit, you were right all along..." 

The Storyteller grinned. "I don't blame you for being a bit skeptical. I was myself for a while there." 

"But are you going to host Sarim?" Mark interjected impatiently. 

Tal nodded. "Yeah, I am. We've been together for--a long time. I think we'll both be more comfortable staying that way." 

Mark sighed in disappointment. "Who knows how long it'll take before I get a partner," he mourned. 

"Not long," Karen assured. "Not now that we've started. There'll be a good number of Yeerks wanting voluntary partners." 

"Desi," Cynda put in hesitantly. "What if--I mean, Lissi's not used to sharing control..." 

Desi grinned reassurance at the newly freed host. "I'm Village-trained, remember. She can't do much without my consent." With a glance at Karen, she inquired, "Has it been long enough?" 

Karen nodded. Pulling her shoulder-length hair back, Desi knelt in front of the Pool. "Next project for the scientists: making a pool liquid that doesn't get your hair icky," she muttered distastefully, placing her ear just under the surface. 

"Well, if you'd cut it--" Mark started. 

"Shouldn't have to if you'd get your act together!" retorted Desi. 

"Hey, we found a Kandrona substitute when you techs were stumped!" 

"Did it matter?" Karen put in wryly. 

"Well, no, but--" 

"You have a Kandrona substitute?" a wide-eyed Cynda asked. "The Yeerks have been looking for ages and still don't have one!" 

Mark snorted. "Those idiots couldn't cut their way out of a wet paper bag with a Dracon beam, they'd be too busy arguing over which one should use it. I should know, we used to work with them." 

There was a gasp from Lissi/Desi, just standing up. "You were Kassim's host, weren't you?" the Yeerk demanded. "When he vanished, a good two thousand cycles ago now..." 

The boy nodded, looking faintly embarrassed. "That was us." 

Cassandra watched, amused. Kassim 107 had been considered the most gifted scientist in years before his abrupt disappearance seventeen years ago. It was still one of the Empire's great unsolved mysteries. 

"Kassim got seriously annoyed that all his projects were commandeered for political power plays and he couldn't work on what he wanted to," Mark was explaining to Lissi. "And I'd heard about the Village. So we took a walk, found the path, and ended up here." He shrugged. "Kassim opted for going symbiote before I finished the Games. I kinda wish he'd waited for me, but we're both happier here." 

Lissi just stared. There was a moment's silence. 

"Tal, your turn," Karen said finally. "Once Sarim's back with us we can talk about what to do next." 

The boy gave a short gesture of accord and headed for the Pool. A moment later he was back, Sarim flicking through memories from the rather distant look in their eyes. 

Karen waited for the former Visser to finish, then said, "Who wants to stay here, then, and who's coming with us? Cynda, the Village for you?" 

The host just nodded shyly, with a faint smile. 

"Tal? Sarim?" 

The pair blinked slowly. "We'll go. Can't leave Cassandra in the lurch," the speaker added, with a lopsided grin that was entirely Tal's. 

"Lissi? Desi has agreed to stay with you for a while no matter which you choose." 

"I know," the Yeerk acknowledged. "I'm going with you. Riae--well, I have to see her, at least." 

Karen turned to Cassandra. "Not much need to ask, I suppose. You're coming?" 

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling. "I can't wait to see Riae." 

"And Mark--" 

He sighed. "Right, stay here, I've heard it before. Too much work and I'm not partnered yet. Karen, you are way overprotective of us." 

The adult looked faintly guilty. "How can I not be?" she asked softly. "I brought you all here. I'm putting you into danger. But it's your decision." 

Mark grinned. "I was teasing, Karen. You're almost always right; why else would we listen to you? If you think I ought to stay, I will. Expect me to show up before too awfully long, though." He gave a confident wave and sauntered off to the other side of the room, where the other Villagers waited. Saying something that incited a wave of laughter, he led them out the far door. 

Karen looked after the boy for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. At last she beckoned the group out into the Time Matrix's chamber. 

The Naharan was waiting there. "Cynda, go with Kliya," Karen directed, with a glance at the Villager. "It's time for us to leave." 

The door closed quietly behind the two. Cassandra didn't look after them, her attention focused on the ancient device above. Karen reached to lay a familiar hand on its smooth surface. "Everyone touch it. Try to keep your minds blank, and let me set the coordinates." 

With each additional touch, the Time Matrix began to swirl in brighter colors, until everyone was ready. Then in an instant they had left the Village. 

Home || Back to Archives


	12. The Defeated, Chapter Twelve

The Defeated, Part Twelve _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Twelve   
translated by DawningStar

For a moment Cassandra was blinded by swirling colors. Then the shimmers cleared to show a scene scarcely less bewildering. 

Humans, Andalites, Hork-Bajir, Nahara, Hawjabran, and a few Chee with holograms lowered ran about in a larger-scale replication of the Village. The adult Villagers were clearly discernable by their uniform age and cheerful serenity even in the midst of the chaos. A few people who were probably rescued hosts wandered through it all, looking rather disoriented but trying to help where they could. The Chee seemed most confused, looking up every few minutes and shaking their heads at the mass influx into their sanctuary, but didn't let it bother them. 

Cassandra blinked in sudden surprise; across the small circle a face both familiar and altered smiled at her rather ruefully. Desi, gone abruptly adult in the transference. With a quick check, the Storyteller ascertained that neither she nor Tal had changed and then felt a bit silly. Of course Desi would be grown up, here. She'd finished the Games, after all, or she wouldn't have hosted Lissi. 

In the general structured disorder the group's arrival had gone unnoticed. Karen glanced about and waved to catch the attention of a young human girl, probably a Chee from her age and businesslike demeanor. "Tell Erek Cassandra's here!" the redhead called. 

The girl nodded in acknowledgement and didn't break stride--she was carrying a box of equipment that was probably heavier than it looked. A few yards away, a tabby-coated Naharan directing assembly of something that looked slightly like a Yeerk Pool abandoned her team and bounded over. "Welcome back, Karen!" she exclaimed. 

Karen raised an ironic eyebrow. "I haven't been gone more than five minutes, Faieya." 

"Oh, sure, our time." The Naharan flicked her whiskers in silent laughter. "You've been in the Village a good two days at least, don't try to deny it. C'mon, I didn't want you to think we hadn't missed you!" 

With a grin, Karen flicked a hand toward the half-finished project. "Two days and you still aren't done? Maybe I should have Dalia replace you." 

"Anything but that!" Faieya cried in mock horror. "Five minutes it is, then. I'll get back to work." She cast a searching glance at Cassandra. "Welcome, Storyteller," she greeted, ignored Cassandra's half-formed query, and returned to her team. 

A human man approached them then, middle-aged but with an air of newfound hope about him. "So this is Cassandra?" he inquired. 

"She is," Karen confirmed, adding teasingly, "Told you she'd make it." 

Erek didn't deign to respond to that. "Riae's had me searching the Yeerk databases for word of you," he informed the Storyteller. "They reported you dead several hours ago, with proof. She locked herself in the room we provided her and hasn't come out since." 

"I have to see her right away, then," Cassandra said, a hard lump of shame and guilt combined rising in her throat. She hadn't considered how Riae might react to the falsified surveillance tape of her host's disintegration in her place... 

"Of course," the Chee nodded, and looked up at Karen. "You can find somewhere for your newcomers to stay, I'm sure. I'll take Cassandra." 

* * *

The private rooms were at the far edge of the Chee's underground hideaway. Everyone along the way seemed to recognize and make room for Erek, so they reached the smaller caves fairly quickly. 

Erek led her down a dimly lit corridor, and stopped before one automatic door among many. A small light to the side glowed red, indicating that the door was locked. The Chee gave a polite knock. "Riae?" 

"Go away, Erek." 

The voice was unfamiliar and tear-choked, but the intonation was recognizably Riae's. Erek looked encouragingly down at Cassandra. "I have someone to see you," he called through the door. 

Cassandra swallowed hard. "Riae--" she started, and her voice gave out in a squeak. 

There was a stunned silence. "Cassandra?" came a disbelieving whisper. 

"It's me." 

The door slid open to reveal a human Villager, with light brown hair tumbled about her shoulders and blue eyes that still held signs of long weeping. Through the eyes of her new host, Riae stared in shock at the Storyteller. "You're--I--How did you--" 

"I'll explain everything," Cassandra promised. 

Riae sniffed and tried to regain some measure of composure. "You'd better. Do you have any idea what I've been..." and she couldn't force another word out past the sudden onslaught of tears. Abruptly she embraced Cassandra and pulled her inside. 

The door hissed shut behind them. Cassandra saw a small display screen on one wall, the image paused. It showed the interior of a Blade ship... 

She blinked back moisture and forced a weak smile. "I'm sorry," she offered. 

A hint of the old suspicion appeared in Riae's gaze. "If you're a Chee hologram I swear I'll kill Erek, last best hope of freedom or not," she threatened. 

"No, it's really me. I..." Cassandra looked away, "I'm sorry...you saw that. The tape. I wasn't thinking." 

"They'd never have believed it if you hadn't had some sort of proof," Riae half excused her. "I'm still waiting to hear how it happened. Kyli's here, and I have records of the trial, most of it anyway, but how did you get away from Visser Five? Was it his host?" 

"Tal was certainly helpful. But--well, I didn't exactly escape. Sarim--Visser Five--he's switched sides. He's with us." 

There was another long pause. "Aren't you going to say you told me so?" Riae inquired at last. 

Cassandra laughed. "I'd actually forgotten about that. Do you want me to?" 

"Not especially," Riae grimaced. She twisted toward the screen set into the wall and reactivated it. "I had wondered about this. Spent an hour trying to convince myself it might be faked. Sarim always used to be good at editing surveillance tapes, as I recall, but he really outdid himself this time." 

In the screen, the image of Cassandra was thrown against her bonds by a sudden violent jolt, loosening them enough for her to fight free; a human-Controller guard entered, and Cassandra watched herself trigger her own fiery dissolution. She reached out and stopped the playback before it repeated. "You said you had seen records of the trial?" 

"Just the classified notes. Apparently their video/audio recorders malfunctioned. But yeah. You played me well. Interesting speech at the end there." 

"I rather thought so." Cassandra grinned. 

"You looked almost like you were having fun." 

"I almost was having fun, then. You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of saying something like that to the Council of Thirteen." 

A predatory sort of smile spread itself across Riae's face. "How'd you like to have another shot at it?" 

"What?" 

The Yeerk shrugged. "From what I gather, that's what Karen's planning. Direct confrontation. Nonviolent, she says, though how long that'll last with the numbers of guards there I wouldn't bet on. Guess who our elected spokesperson is?" 

"Karen?" Cassandra suggested hopelessly. 

"Nope. Who around here do you know who's respected by the hosts, notorious among Yeerks, and has a talent for speeches?" The smile was fast turning insufferable. 

Cassandra let out a long sigh. "You come with me. I'm not doing that alone again." 

"I never intend to let you," Riae assured, her expression fading into determination. "Thinking I'd lost you, it made me realize how much I would miss you if this had been real. If you agree, I'm submitting our names for symbiosis once this is over and we have time." 

The Storyteller gave Riae another brief hug. "Of course I'd agree." She hesitated. "Though...you may change your mind when you hear who else I brought back." 

Sounding faintly nervous, Riae asked, "Who?" 

"Lissi. The lesser. Sarim's been protecting her." Cassandra winced at Riae's look of distress. "She just wants to talk. Karen made her promise not to attack you or anything." 

"I'm so encouraged," muttered Riae in a tone that didn't carry as much sarcasm as the words would suggest. With a visible effort, she pulled her mind away from the shame of old memories. "I haven't introduced you to Naomi yet, have I? She's a Villager, as you've probably guessed; she agreed to host me temporarily." 

Cassandra nodded a greeting. "Are you going to come back now, then?" she asked Riae. 

"I'd intended to, but...maybe it'd be better to wait until after I have a chance to speak with Lissi. Since you've already talked with her, it might be...distracting." 

"Maybe so," Cassandra agreed reluctantly. She was beginning to see why some of the Villagers wanted partners so badly, something that she'd mentioned in stories but never quite understood; once you got used to having a friendly presence to warn you away from foolish actions and share control with, it grew increasingly lonely to be without that presence. It was an entirely different experience from the barely-tolerant relationship of a normal Yeerk and host, or even the condescendingly amicable sort she'd had with Tariss. 

There was a light rap on the door. "Riae? Cassandra?" came an unfamiliar voice. "It's Fhren. Karen says we're having a meeting." 

"All right," Riae responded, "we're coming." 

* * *

The newly re-partnered Yeerk shot a faintly uncomfortable glance at Cassandra as they walked. "Kyli told me what you did," he said finally. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier." 

Cassandra shrugged. "It was perfectly understandable. I'd probably have said much the same things." 

"I rather doubt that," Fhren murmured, but he smiled in relief. 

The meeting rooms were in much the same section as Riae's quarters. They seemed, in fact, to be a refurnished private room. A Chee, hologram down, waited just outside the door. At seeing them, he opened it. 

Inside waited Tal hosting Sarim, Karen, and several Villagers Cassandra was less familiar with--several humans, two Nahara, one Hawjabran, and an Andalite--along with several of the rescued hosts; Cassandra recognized Faizah and Midori, both much cleaner and better-fed. Also present were representatives of various planets--not Villagers, as they were both too old and too wary. There was no sign of Lissi. No one had yet taken a place at the large, circular table. 

Fhren led them to a black-haired Villager who had to be hosting Kyli, from the way he took her hand. Cassandra smiled at her. "I was glad to hear you'd made it back safely." 

"Cassandra, I didn't really get a chance to thank you," Kyli said gravely. "I was about ten times more relieved when you arrived. Facing Tariss and admitting I'd left you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. She said that I probably couldn't have stopped you, but still." 

"Where is Tariss?" Cassandra inquired. 

Kyli rolled her eyes. "Off with the rest of our assault group. The Villagers say they can't get into the Village unless they want to go there. Which is a little difficult to manage since most of them don't believe in it. She knows you're back. She'll want to talk with you once this is over." 

Cassandra had a feeling Tariss wasn't the only person who would be wanting to talk with her. She was getting looks from several others just in the room. Midori, for one, was threading her way through the crowd at a quick rate. 

"I'm really glad you're okay," the young ground-dweller greeted as soon as she was close enough. "I felt like it was my fault, at least partly. I mean, I came up with that idea and all..." 

Riae shrugged. "It worked out, that's what's important. I think Karen's ready to start." 

The founder of the Village had seated herself at the table and was waiting expectantly. Slowly, conversation died down and a more or less orderly circle formed. Cassandra and Riae found seats among the Villagers. 

"Thank you all for coming," Karen began. "This meeting is to let you know what to expect over the next few days, after you return to your respective planets, and also to make any changes you feel necessary to our plans. So let me start by explaining those. 

"The heart and mind of the Yeerk empire is the Council of Thirteen. Through the Village, we can make a strike directly into the Council chamber. We feel it's probably best to try a less violent method first; there are several Storytellers among us, who agree that Cassandra is the best of them, so she will be our speaker to the Council. If they don't agree to our requirements--freeing all involuntary hosts and turning planets over to their rightful populations, among other things--well, that's why she'll have backup." 

A wave of smiles circled the table, for different reasons. The resistance fighters thought Karen was making a meaningless concession to a peaceful solution they didn't believe in; the Villagers knew quite well that none of the Council members would be hurt, and were faintly proud of their leader for managing the touchy situation so delicately. 

Cassandra didn't smile. She was too busy trying to come up with an approach that might have some faint chance of convincing the Yeerk Council. Even if Karen did have a backup plan, she didn't want to be totally discredited. 

Other Storytellers? Probably Faizah and Riae. The ground-dweller gang leader wouldn't really be a good choice as a spokesperson for peace, and Riae was a bit inexperienced still in this sort of thing. Karen herself, while hardly lacking for eloquence, had been out of touch for decades or centuries subjectively. Which left her as the only choice. Wonderful. 

Karen continued, "When the news reaches your worlds, likely there will be a bit of a panic. Be ready for that--it's your chance to retake your homes. But send captured Yeerks and any voluntary hosts who want to come to Earth. They're more likely to surrender if they have a least a hope of survival." 

Again there was no dissent. Karen went on to give more specific advice to several of the leaders, mostly on dealing with the probable trouble they'd get from high-ranked Yeerks stationed on their worlds. "If we're lucky," she finished at last, "we'll manage this so quickly they won't know what's happened till we have control everywhere. If we're not, we'll lose friends. It may happen anyway. But you knew what you were getting into when you joined up--and this is our best chance yet." 

No one cheered; it wasn't a moment for unrestrained emotion. That might come later, if they succeeded. But there were solemn nods as the leaders of the Resistance rose from their seats, and most came to shake Karen's hand in a silent vow. They would do their best. 

* * *

Come on, Riae, why can't you tell me? _I_ can't hide anything from _you_!> 

You know I wouldn't peek. And this is private, Cassandra. Lissi and I...we go a long way back, and...and you know what I did.> 

The Storyteller caught a glimpse of the conversation and drew back. It wasn't hard to see how the encounter had gone, just from Riae's mental state. It would be unkind to pry, even if her curiosity felt liable to kill. Lissi obviously hadn't forgiven the death of her twin. But you think you can work together now?> 

A mental sigh. For the same side, if not exactly together. Don't worry about that now. She's headed for the Village for a while, and we have other things to take care of.> 

You're right. Lissi needs the Village...she'll be okay there.> Cassandra didn't really want to think about 'other things'. She only had a few hours and preferred to spend them catching up with Riae rather than wracking her mind over a speech that was probably doomed to failure. Look how well her first one had gone over. 

Rather nicely, I thought.> The Yeerk grinned. Got pretty much the reaction you were aiming for, didn't it?> 

Cassandra chuckled. Suppose so. Don't think they'll want to listen to me again, though.> The Council would be more or less obliged to, however. She wondered how they'd react to her--she and Riae were supposedly dead, after all. 

Incredulous. Furious that we'd have the temerity to be alive. Suspicious of who let us--you, rather--escape. Accompanied by an indistinct babble and a lot of yelling.> 

This is why I missed you, Riae.> 

What, the only reason?> 

Well, one of them. Come on--I'm not writing this speech without you.> 

Home || Back to Archives


	13. The Defeated, Chapter Thirteen

The Defeated, Part Thirteen _Translator's Note--The original manuscript was written in Galard. There are uncertainties about the meanings of some words, and poetic license has been taken in translating the poems and songs, in order to keep the spirit meant rather than the exact wording. _

The Defeated, Part Thirteen   
translated by DawningStar

An Andalite-Controller trotted down a highly classified hallway in the center of the most protected place on the Yeerk home planet. His stalk eyes moved constantly, nervously scanning the area. Despite his discomfort, he had every right to be in that area. His escort, however, might have been surprised to find him there unprotected. 

Councilor Seven, once known as Ispyk 329, had done a great many things in his long life. Most of them would not have surprised his fellow councilors, since all had done similar things. He had once been a Visser, of course, and unfailingly carried out his tasks. He had ordered the murder of hosts and occasionally the assassination of a particularly troublesome Yeerk. He had been a major factor in the subjugation of the Andalite homeworld. 

More recently he had become something that would have surprised the other Yeerks, had they known: a spy, for the coalition of resistances no less. 

It was not something he had ever considered in earlier days. The Yeerk Peace Movement was doomed, all host resistance was rapidly being crushed. He would have laughed at the suggestion--before killing whoever had made it. 

The change had come in the unlikely form of an Andalite male, just into adulthood, apparently a member of the Resistance. He'd been found in the main communications center, with no trace of how he had gotten in and no clue to what he had been trying to do. Ispyk, in need of a new host since his own was rapidly becoming too old to be much use, had infested the boy with the intent of finding answers and punishing his calm insolence. 

The young Parilas-Alinis-Karrin had provided little information, however, his mind insisting with deep conviction that he had come from the mythical Village to 'bring truth'. Ispyk had finally judged him insane, but kept the host anyway. Prime Andalites still weren't as common as he would have preferred. 

Only to find, within the same cycle, that the Village was much more real than anything he could have imagined... 

Hurry up!> Parilas implored. If we don't get back, they'll find out--and Karen's counting on us!> 

I _know_ that,> Ispyk snapped, tense, and was immediately sorry for it. Parilas, I--> 

No, my fault.> The host sent a faint mental smile. We're both on edge. Sorry.> 

Ispyk sighed. Almost done. Communications set, Dracons hardwired to stun, signal sent and records erased. We'll make it.> 

They did, slipping inside the luxurious quarters of a Councilor moments before a patrol rounded the corner. Parilas took a breath of relief, as Ispyk retreated to the farther corners of the shared mind. Well done.> 

It was a joint effort.> The Yeerk chuckled silently, the camaraderie still feeling faintly miraculous--which, come to think of it, it was. He would never know how many years they had spent in the Village, the child Parilas patiently hosting him cycle after cycle, extended exposure to the experiences of fellow Yeerks and Karen's unshakable faith that everything would work out...at last, he had accepted it, and after some time had volunteered for the task they had planned for him but would never force him to take. He and Parilas had been returned to the very instant of their disappearance. 

Parilas, do you ever wonder if Karen has more people out that she hasn't told us about?> he mused. 

No.> The Andalite pulled their dark ceremonial robe back on, trotted over to the hydroponic garden full of delicacies. I figure, if she does, it's none of our business. We'd know them if we saw them.> 

Ispyk had to admit his partner was right. There was an air about Villagers, somehow, that couldn't be mistaken if one knew what it meant. 

I doubt she would, though. She doesn't like hijacking people like we did you. The Village is a choice.> 

The secure comm in one corner beeped gently. Ispyk spun toward it, pausing to compose their expression before he answered. Councilor Seven.> 

"Councilor, your presence is requested in the Council Chamber," the comm officer said politely. "A meeting has been called." The phrasing was routine. Not even the Councilors knew which of them held the title of Emperor, though if any died it was a safe guess to say it had been that one. The supreme ruler of the Yeerk Empire was chosen randomly by computer and sent all commands anonymously through the comm system. The system had given rise to whispered, persistent rumors that the Emperor might not even be one of the Councilors--amusing but highly unlikely. 

I will be there shortly. Order my escort to meet me here.> He cut the transmission, taking a deep breath and wondering again how Karen planned these things so perfectly. She couldn't have known they would be meeting, surely? Council meetings only happened once a cycle at most, and they were called at random intervals or when something urgent came up... 

Parilas's mind echoed the half-formed idea, making it more visible. Yes, probably Karen did know, if she'd staged or watched some event major enough to cause such a meeting. 

Ispyk worked for a moment at calming himself. This was what he'd been working for all the time since his return from the Village, nearly a year now. But Karen had said clearly enough in the last message that she didn't want their cover blown. He and Parilas could still be useful after the Council was dissolved, working to convince the Yeerks that the Village's offer of sanctuary was for the best. If that failed, he knew, large numbers were very likely to be killed by vengeful freedom fighters. Not that the humans, Andalites, and various others didn't have cause for their hatred, but more death would do no good to anyone. 

The door chimed. Fully in character, the brusque Councilor Seven strode out to meet his escort for the walk to the Council Chamber. 

The escort consisted of three heavily armed Hork-Bajir. It was an honor guard rather than protection from any real danger--Councilors frequently fell to one another's plots, but never by blatant violence, and the base was fully protected from any hostile assault there might be. From outside, anyway. 

The young Andalite tugged his partner's attention back to the present, and the arched private entrance to their seat in the Council Chamber. Ispyk dismissed the escort with a perfunctory nod and input the lengthy password. 

The door slid silently open. The interior was dimly lit, light sources on the floor throwing shadows about the room. 

Seven of his fellow Councilors were already in their places, and four more entered within a few seconds. Each one was in a semi-private space surrounded by a partition that came to about waist height, with various amenities, including something to drink (shallow bowls of water on the floor for the Andalite-Controllers, chilled glasses of the same for the two humans and a larger one for the Hork-Bajir, and something thick and green in a cup for the lone Ongachic) and a small computer screen. This was the debate room, used to present a problem or proposal. The transmission room made a greater show of their supposed unity. 

Ispyk scanned the room. Councilor One, who spoke for the Council of Thirteen on most formal occasions, had yet to arrive, but everyone else was now present. He looked across at Councilor Thirteen, just opposite him--Syri One-Six-Eight was the most recent inductee to the Council, and within a few months she'd been judged totally under the control of her sponsor, Councilor One. Despite that, Ispyk found the young Andalite-Controller the least offensive of his peers. Her apparent motives were refreshingly simple among the convoluted plots--offend no one and support the person who'd dragged her in on his coattails. 

Councilors Two and Nine had chosen to keep their human host bodies on promotion, probably to conceal some dangerous secret. Similarly, Councilor Eleven was still a Hork-Bajir-Controller despite the form's drawbacks. Councilor Six, the Ongachic-Controller, claimed she preferred the rarity of her host body over physical strength. Few Ongachic had ever been infested, since they were a nomadic race spread beyond the farthest reaches of the Empire. 

Though many Vissers had auxiliary hosts, the Councilors couldn't afford the risk of exposing their thoughts. During the feeding cycle, each host was knocked unconscious to prevent socialization and possible leakage. It was lonely even for Parilas, whose best friend was constantly with him; Ispyk didn't like thinking about the probable state of mind of the other hosts. 

The rest were Andalite-Controllers, and really there wasn't much to differentiate between most of them. Typical rank-climbers, jockeying for position even here. Ispyk felt a little sorry for them, having been much the same before his time in the Village--they had a major adjustment coming. 

Councilor One entered just then, carrying a disk. If everyone's here, we can start,> he said, sliding it into place in a data slot. I received new information just today concerning this clip. Some of you will already be familiar with it.> 

The small screens sprang to life with a view of the interior of a Blade ship, a human girl tied to a chair the only figure visible. Ispyk recognized her as the host of the recently demoted Visser Thirty-Seven, Riae Four-Two-Nine. The one who'd given that astonishingly brazen speech at her trial--he had been sorry to hear her sentence, and slightly relieved when this had appeared the first time, her suicide before any punishments had begun. 

The senior Councilor let the clip run its course before stopping it. And now--this one is from a surveillance camera at the edge of the spaceport, timestamped a few minutes after Visser Five's Blade ship landed.> 

It was a blurred picture, but--Ispyk frowned. Three humans walked across one edge of the screen, one girl very definitely the same as Visser Thirty-Seven's host, the boy matching Visser Five's auxiliary host. 

The first is evidently faked, sliced in from the deepest levels of computer security, something only the Visser would be able to do. And Visser Five has vanished, along with the traitor Riae.> 

Councilor Two leaned forward. "Captured, or a deliberate betrayal? Two of our senior Vissers in such a short time--this may be a full-blown conspiracy." 

Might they have been impersonated?> Councilor Four put in. A resurgence of the Yeerk Peace Movement--> 

The YPM is _dead_,> Councilor Three interrupted sharply. We stamped them out for good.> 

Four flicked her smaller tail-blade in thinly concealed contempt. You'd like to think so, anyway. Traitors rarely die so easily. Idealists have a habit of converting loyal Yeerks to their cause. Refusing to consider the possibility only leaves us open to attack.> 

The lower-ranked Councilors usually kept silent during the incessant battles between Three and Four, but Ispyk felt obliged to put in, The traitor's speech was very out of character from anything we've seen from her before. Councilor Four has a valid point.> 

Hush, Seven,> Councilor Thirteen whispered in private thought-speak. Everyone knows that. Let them argue themselves out.> 

It's hardly _your_ place to advise me, Thirteen,> Ispyk replied in the same manner, tone cutting. She was right, but anything kinder would have been out of character, a façade he could not afford to drop just yet. 

The quarrel dragged on for several minutes, but when it sank from any semblance of rationality to outright personal insults One interrupted, Excellent points, but let's keep our focus, please. Have we any evidence that Visser Five was a traitor?> 

No hard evidence,> Councilor Ten reported--it was his duty to watch the high-ranked members of the military. A rumor that he might have been a little too softhearted with his auxiliary hosts, but that's hardly grounds for treason. Still, it was the same host he Controlled when he vanished...> 

Evidently undaunted by Ispyk's snub, Thirteen started, I still think--> 

But no one found out what Syri thought, because at that moment Six yelped "What is _that_?" and stared at the center of the room, where a firefly spark of light had just appeared. Ispyk felt tension jolt him, and struggled to match his reactions to those of his peers. _Finally! They're coming!_

The light expanded to a glowing portal, and a female Naharan bounded out holding a spherical metallic object. Before any of the Councilors were recovered enough to call for help, she set it down and grinned merrily as a blinding wave of light burst from it, rolling over the entire room. 

For an instant Ispyk could see nothing, blinking all four eyes rapidly to clear them and listening to frightened yelps from several Councilors. "Oh, shush," an unfamiliar voice that had to belong to the Villager said irritably. "None of you are hurt." 

The glare cleared, leaving only a faint, suspicious shimmer between the rulers of the Yeerk Empire and this impudent interloper. Councilor Eight started angrily toward the apparently defenseless Narahan, tail-blade up--and smacked directly into a transparent wall. 

Forcefield,> Parilas observed, sounding impressed. They've managed to get a captive audience, at least.> 

Ispyk sent silent agreement, still keeping all sign of his real feelings from his expression. Cautiously, he moved his own tail-blade toward his private exit, and met an identical barrier. Yes, they'd managed this very well...now if only Karen could convince the Council..._well, really, they--we--don't have much option. It'll depend on how stubborn One and Two decide to be, I'll bet._

Surprisingly, however, Karen did not emerge from the Village portal. Two more Villagers did, a female Andalite followed by a human male, and lastly a girl who was definitely not a Villager. 

"Visser Thirty-seven!" Councilor Two hissed in recognition. "So this is your doing!" 

The dark-haired child cleared her throat in what sounded to Ispyk like unsuccessfully concealed embarrassment. "Ah--well, about that. I'm not actually Riae, you see. The Visser, that is. I'm her host. Cassandra." She smiled nervously. "It was just me at the trial, I'm afraid--we'd already sent Riae off to the Village. But I stood in for her pretty well, don't you think?" 

No one spoke for a moment. A quick scan with his stalk eyes informed Ispyk that the general consensus of the Council was that the child was insane, although in private thought-speak Four triumphantly exclaimed, You see! An impostor! The YPM--> 

Shut up,> One said mildly. This is no time for petty squabbles.> There were slight nods around the room in what was probably the closest the Council had even been to true unity. Four rocked backward in shock and fury. 

Councilor One continued on the wider band, Human, what is your purpose here? You must know that the penalty for disturbing a Council meeting is death.> 

"Yes, well, that's one of the things we ought to talk about," Cassandra informed them. "You people have way too many death penalties. But that can wait a bit--let me introduce my friends, here." She gestured toward her three companions. "This is Faieya"--the Naharan--"and Dalia-Ratani-Nekan, and Kassim/Steven, a symbiote pair--Kassim 107 is a Yeerk. They are representing various factions of the Village. Karen requested that I speak for her, however." 

_Factions?_ Ispyk wondered. He didn't really consider that the appropriate term for the different points of view. Everyone had the same goal, the same motives, so there was no need for true competition. Still...it was terminology the Council members would understand, as they probably couldn't comprehend the true situations. He knew Faieya and Dalia from his time in the village, and the scientist Kassim by reputation. The Naharan was impatient by nature, always supportive of the quickest solution, but with a determination and swift response time that made her a good teammate in a debate, while Dalia's opinions tended to be long thought out and almost impossible to argue with. Kassim/Steven had the skill to find workable alternatives and the practical knowledge of technology and Yeerk culture to apply them. 

It was a perfect team for one of the debate challenges in the Village, and Ispyk thought with a hidden smile that it was just like Karen to apply the Games to such a situation. In a very real sense, the Games were life; anyone who lost their temper over tag or a board game had no chance of keeping it in more stressful situations. The useful skills that could be taught so were a nice side-effect. 

Parilas's gentle tug drew Ispyk's attention back to the Council's reactions, and his own cover. A ripple of shock had circled the room at Kassim's introduction, the Yeerk scientist having been well-known before his disappearance seventeen Earth years past. "--I was tired of having my projects wrecked by politics," the Villager was saying, in response to the query Ispyk had missed. "I happened to find the Village. That has nothing to do with the current situation, however. Can we please stay on track? There's enough to talk about." 

Very well.> Councilor One turned his focus back to Cassandra, though a stalk eye lingered on Kassim long enough to give the impression that the deserting scientist would face some fairly harsh penalties if there was ever a chance for it. What do you mean by this Village of yours? Surely not the superstitions of the hosts.> 

"Well--yes, actually they've gotten most of it right," the girl admitted with a faint grin. "The Village exists in a universe created and maintained by the Time Matrix, founded by Karen and under the supervision of a group of the residents generally chosen as the best suited for the responsibility. It's a haven for just about anyone--Yeerks or hosts. But I'll let Dalia take over here, as she knows more about our legal status in the Empire." 

Ispyk had to concentrate hard to keep a properly cold expression in his eyes. Legal status? Karen really had thought of everything...Dalia had a lawyer's turn of mind, and it would be at best advantage using the Council's own policies against them. 

The Andalite girl stepped forward, with a respectful nod at the Council of Thirteen. It was, Ispyk was amused to note, the gesture traditionally used between Ssstram of equal rank, a subtlety his fellow Councilors were unlikely to remember. The Village society was highly conducive to a certain blending of old customs. 

The Village, being as it is delineated by neither physical space nor any one species, can be difficult to define precisely,> Dalia explained. However, for various reasons, it is easiest to consider it a colony world outside normal space. According to the Declaration of War when the Yeerks first began their conquests, 'every star and planet in the galaxy should and will belong to the Empire'--which puts the Village outside its boundaries. Therefore, it is quite legal to sign a treaty with us as a separate entity, and to accept us as independent of the Empire.> 

The Council of Thirteen paused collectively to consider the statement. "The declaration was never meant to be used that way," Two protested a bit weakly. "The Council of the time was merely--making a point." 

Dalia tilted her head inquisitively. Then you would argue that the Empire's current boundaries should be used, instead? The Village is outside those as well.> 

"No! I meant--ah..." the Councilor started, and broke off, confusion overcoming indignation. 

The Andalite Villager waited politely for any further comments; none being forthcoming, she nodded to Kassim/Steven, who handed a roll of paper to Cassandra. 

"We have taken the liberty of drawing up a rough draft of the treaty we require," the human girl added, unfurling the document with a soft rustle. "As spokesperson, I will read it for you." She looked down at the paper and began, "Articles of Freedom, being a treaty between the Village of the Time Matrix and the Yeerk Empire, negotiated by duly chosen representatives of the Village and the Yeerk Council of Thirteen. Article One: Rights of Sentient Beings. Section One: All beings capable of thought and self-recognition have and must retain certain essential rights, these including but not limited to control over actions and freedom in personal choices. The decision to host a Yeerk, if applicable, shall not be construed as giving up these rights..." 

Parilas?> 

It was only a soft murmur in private thoughtspeak, but the source nearly cost Ispyk his carefully controlled expression. We're safe enough talking,> he answered the Andalite Villager, equally quiet. Even here, they haven't found a way to pick up private thought-speak. What is it?> 

Dalia's stalk eyes swiveled somewhat nervously, but not toward them; she gave no outward hint at all that she was talking. Good. Ispyk, Karen told me that if I could get in contact with you, I was to let you know that if you and Parilas want, once these negotiations are over, you could come home.> 

Ispyk hesitated. Home... It was a tempting thought--going back to the Village, where his friends were, where, most importantly, he wouldn't have to play this constant game of power struggles and deceit. It had been his life once, his only ambition to be chosen Emperor, but now that he had lived in the healthier atmosphere of the Village, the Council of Thirteen grew steadily more distasteful to him. 

Oblivious of the exchange, Cassandra was continuing, "Section Four: Should a member of any race choose voluntarily to host a Yeerk, both must reaffirm to witnesses that their partnership is desired and not harmful..." 

He sighed silently, turmoil concealed beneath an expression of outrage at Cassandra's words, and turned his focus inward. I don't know, Parilas. What do you think?> 

As usual, his partner reflected his own confused thoughts back to him, clarified and refined in the process. I think you're right,> Parilas said, with a faint mental smile. You usually are; you just need to be reminded what you're thinking.> 

Silent agreement, then Ispyk reached out in private thought-speak again. Dalia...is there anything I can help with, if I decided to stay for a while longer?> 

Humor colored her tone. Karen said you would probably ask that. If you really want to, you could try convincing one or two about actually following this treaty and changing to a Village-trained voluntary host. Other than that--no, Ispyk, after the treaty's signed, there's nothing you need to stay for.> 

Well, if you're sure, then. Once the Councilors are leaving their hosts, I'll come home.> He hesitated. Ah--is it really necessary to let them know what I've been doing?> 

Not at all,> Dalia assured him, a smile in her voice. 

"Article Two: Planetary Possession. Section One: A planet's original sentient race, that which lived there before said race's discovery of either space travel or other races, shall have jurisdiction over all matters of property on that planet..." 

Ispyk remembered his role in time to react properly to the statement, a trembling as of barely suppressed fury. The trembling wasn't hard; but it was relief that caused it. _It's almost over._

* * *

  
End part thirteen. The last part and the epilogue will show up...er, when I finish them...sorry, all, I'll try to hurry this time. 

I know it's taken me forever to add more...we're nearly at the end, though. For this section, special thanks to Anifan1, who provided me with inspiration and a rough draft for the Yeerk/Village treaty. She's also been begging me to keep going every step of the way--it is largely due to her that this fic's gotten as far as it has. So my thanks, and if anyone else out there likes this thing, they should be grateful too. 

Home || Back to Archives

--> 


End file.
